•THE-GREATW 
It  AMULET"* 


-MAUD -DIVER- 


'I 


• 


THE    GREAT    AMULET 


All  Rights  reserved 


BY 


MAUD     DIVER 

AUTHOR    OF    '  CAPTAIN    DESMOND,    V.C.' 


"Love  is  the  great  Amulet  that  makes  this  world  a  garden; 
and  '  Hope  that  comes  to  all '  outwears  the  accidents  of  life ; 
and  reaches  with  tremulous  hands  beyond  the  grave  and  Death." 

— R.  L.  S. 

"  Four  things  come  not  back  to  man  or  woman  :  the  sped 
arrow ;  the  spoken  word ;  the  past  life ;  and  the  neglected 
opportunity." — OMAR  EL  KHUTTUB. 


NEW    YORK 
JOHN    LANE    COMPANY 

MCMVIII 


fR 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DEDICATED   TO 

TRIX   FLEMING 

IN  MEMORY   OF   DALHOUSIE    DAYS. 


Let  thy  heart  see  that  still  the  same 
Burns  early  friendship 's  sacred  flame. 
The  affinities  have  strongest  part 
In  youth,  to  draw  men  heart  to  heart : 
As  life  draws  on,  and  finds  no  rest, 
The  individual  in  each  breast 
Is  tyrannous  to  sunder  them. 

— ROSSETTI. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

PROLOGUE  1 


BOOK  I. 
AFTER  FIVE  YEARS        ...      22 

BOOK  II. 
JUST  IMPEDIMENT         .        .        .99 

BOOK  III. 
THE  TENTS  OF  ISHMAEL  .        .        .196 

BOOK  IV. 
THE  VALLEY  OF  DECISION  286 


THE    GEEAT   AMULET. 


PEOLOGUE. 
I. 

"  The  little  more,  and  how  much  it  is  ! 

The  little  less,  and  what  worlds  away." 

— BROWNING. 

No  one  in  Zermatt  dreamed  that  a  wedding  had  been 
solemnised  in  the  English  church  on  that  September 
afternoon  of  the  early  eighties.  Tourists  and  townsfolk 
alike  had  been  cheated  of  a  legitimate  thrill  of  interest 
and  speculation.  Nor  would  even  the  most  percipient 
have  recognised  as  bride  and  bridegroom  the  tall  dark 
Englishman,  in  a  rough  shooting  suit,  and  the  girl,  in 
simple  white  travelling  gear,  who  stood  together,  an  hour 
later,  on  the  outskirts  of  the  little  town,  and  took  leave 
of  their  solitary  wedding  guest : — an  artist  cap-h-pie ; 
velveteen  coat,  loosely  knotted  tie,  and  soft  felt  hat 
complete. 

In  this  Bohemian  garb  Michael  Maurice, — as  the  bride's 
brother, — had  led  his  sister  up  the  aisle,  and  duly  surren- 
dered her  to  Captain  Lenox,  E.A.,  serenely  unaware,  the 
while,  of  censorious  side-glances  bestowed  upon  him  by 
the  ascetic-featured  chaplain,  who  had  an  air  of  officiating 
under  protest,  of  silently  asserting  his  own  aloofness  from 
this  hole-and-corner  method  of  procedure.  But  his 
attitude  was  powerless  to  affect  the  exalted  emotion  of 

A 


2  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

that  strange  half-hour,  wherein,  by  the  repetition  of  a  few 
simple,  forcible  words,  a  man  and  woman  take  upon 
themselves  the  hardest  task  on  earth  with  a  valiant 
assurance  which  is  at  once  pathetic  and  sublime. 

To  Quita  Maurice,  impressionable  at  all  times,  the 
absence  of  ceremony,  of  those  trivialities  which  obscure 
and  belittle  the  one  supreme  fact,  gave  an  added  solem- 
nity to  the  unadorned  service :  forced  upon  her  a  half- 
disturbing  realisation  that  she  was  passing  from  an 
independence,  dearer  to  her  than  life,  into  the  keeping 
of  a  man : — a  man  of  whom  she  knew  little  beyond  the 
fact  that  he  loved  her  with  a  strength  and  singleness 
of  heart  which  is  the  heritage  of  those  who  reach  life's 
summit  without  indulging  in  emotional  excursions  by  the 
way. 

And  now  all  needful  preliminaries  were  over ;  even  to 
the  wedding  breakfast,  a  cheerful,  casual  meal  of  cold 
chicken,  iced  cake,  and  a  bottle  of  champagne,  served  in 
Maurice's  unpretentious  rooms,  on  the  pastry-cook's 
second  floor. 

The  scene  of  their  brief  courtship  lay  behind  them, 
dozing  in  the  golden  stillness  of  late  September :  before 
them  a  footpath  climbed  through  a  forest  of  pine  and  fir 
to  the  Eiffel  Alp  Hotel ;  and  on  all  sides  multitudinous 
mountains  flung  heroic  contours  outward  and  upward,  to 
a  galaxy  of  peaks,  that  glittered  diamond-bright  upon  a 
turquoise  sky.  A  mule,  ready-saddled,  champed  his  bit 
at  a  respectful  distance  from  the  trio  :  for  Lenox,  an  inde- 
fatigable mountaineer,  had  insisted  on  taking  the  footpath 
up  to  the  Eiffel ;  where  they  would  spend  ten  days,  before 
crossing  into  Italy,  and  so  on  to  Brindisi,  en  route  for  his 
station  in  India. 

The  expiration  of  his  leave,  and  his  determination  to 
take  Quita  Maurice  back  with  him,  were  responsible  for 
the  brevity  of  their  engagement,  and  for  the  absence,  in 
both,  of  that  brand-new  aspect  which  proclaims  a  bride 
and  bridegroom  to  an  eternally  interested  world. 

For  this  last  Eldred  Lenox  was  abundantly  grateful. 
All  the  Scot  in  him  asserted  itself  in  a  fierce  reticence,  an 
inbred  sense  of  privacy  where  a  man's  deepest  feelings 
were  concerned :  and  now,  as  he  stood  battling  with  his 


PROLOGUE.  3 

impatience  to  be  gone,  he  was  suffering  acute  discomfiture 
from  the  demonstrative  leave-taking  in  progress  between 
Maurice  and  his  sister.  For  their  sakes,  at  least,  he  would 
fain  have  effaced  himself :  while  they,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
were  momentarily  oblivious  of  his  existence. 

Artists  both,  of  no  mean  quality,  they  had  lived  and 
worked  together  for  five  years,  since  the  day  when  Michael 
had  rented  his  first  modest  studio  in  the  King's  Eoad, 
Chelsea :  and,  setting  aside  Art,  his  feeling  for  Quita  was 
the  one  serious  element  in  a  nature  light  and  variable  as 
a  summer  cloud.  From  his  French  mother  he  derived  an 
elastic  spirit  that  yielded  itself  to  the  emotion  of  the 
passing  moment ;  and  Lenox,  watching  him,  marvelled  at 
the  sharp  dividing-lines  drawn  between  the  different  races 
of  earth. 

He  half  resented  such  facility  of  self-expression.  Pos- 
sibly he  envied  it :  though  no  doubt  he  would  have  denied 
the  impeachment  with  an  oath. 

Eventually  it  occurred  to  Maurice  that  he  could  not 
well  stand  in  the  roadway  till  sunset,  taking  leave  of  the 
sister  he  was  so  loth  to  lose,  and,  with  a  sigh  of  exaspera- 
tion, he  pushed  her  gently  towards  her  husband. 

"  Voilti,  cherie,  .  .  .  enough  of  my  endless  adieux,  or 
ce  Ion  Lenox  may  be  tempted  to  break  the  sixth  com- 
mandment on  my  account,  in  addition  to  the  eighth." 

Lenox  smiled  tolerantly  down  from  six  feet  of  height 
upon  his  slim,  fair  brother-in-law. 

"  That  temptation  should  be  your  own  prerogative, 
my  dear  fellow,  since  I  am  taking  her  from  you  for 
good." 

Maurice  laughed. 

"  Mon  Dieu,  yes.  You  have  certainly  given  me  a  fair 
excuse  to  hate  you.  And  I  have  wondered  more  than 
once,  in  the  last  three  months,  why  one  could  not  man- 
age it." 

"  Too  fatiguing  for  a  man  of  your  calibre ! "  the  other 
answered  with  good-humoured  bluntness.  "You  could 
never  be  bothered  to  keep  it  up." 

"  Ah,  mon  ami,  you  men  who  speak  little  speak  to  the 
point !  You  are  altogether  too  discerning.  But  for  Quita's 
sake,  at  least,  we  could  never  be  otherwise  than  firm 


4  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

friends.  With  all  my  heart  I  wish  good  fortune  to  you 
both,  and  count  the  days  to  your  return." 

The  two  men  shook  hands  cordially :  and  Lenox,  beck- 
oning the  muleteer,  lifted  his  wife  into  the  saddle ;  thus 
averting  a  final  demonstration.  She  waved  her  hand  to  a 
blurred  vision  of  her  brother,  smiling  resolutely,  till  his 
back  was  turned  :  and  he  departed  town  ward ; — a  lonely 
brown  figure,  to  which  a  slight  stoop  of  the  shoulders  lent 
an  added  air  of  pathos. 

Quita  sat  looking  after  him,  her  stillness  belying  the 
clash  of  emotions  at  her  heart. 

That  vanishing  figure  on  the  sunlit  road  stood  for  all 
that  she  knew  and  loved  best  in  the  world :  for  Art,  inde- 
pendence, good  comradeship :  for  the  happy,  irresponsible, 
hand-to-mouth  life  of  Bohemia:  for  the  Past,  dear  and 
familiar,  as  a  well-loved  voice :  while  the  quiet  man  at 
her  side, — whose  mere  presence  suggested  latent  force, 
and  gave  her  a  sense  of  protection  wholly  new  to  her, — 
stood  for  the  Future  ;  the  undiscovered  country,  peopled 
with  possibilities,  dark  and  bright.  And  Quita  Lenox, 
being  blest,  or  curst,  with  the  insight  and  detached  spirit 
of  the  artist,  saw  clearly  that  the  Great  Experiment  held, 
for  her,  a  large  element  of  hazard ;  that  she  had  staked 
her  all  upon  a  turn  of  the  wheel,  with  what  resulting 
Time  alone  could  show. 

Her  husband's  hand  on  her  arm  brought  reflection 
abruptly  to  an  end. 

"  He  is  almost  out  of  sight  now,"  Lenox  said  quietly. 
"  And  I  think  it's  time  we  made  a  start.  Will  you 
come  ? " 

She  turned  to  him  at  once,  with  a  smile  whose  April 
quality  heightened  its  charm. 

"  Of  course  I  will ;  and  gladly.  Don't  think  me  horrid, 
Eldred.  I  have  always  been  frank  with  you,  haven't  I  ? 
And  .  .  .  it  is  a  wrench  leaving  Michael  to  live  and  work 
alone." 

"  I  quite  understand  that :  and  I  value  your  devotion 
to  him  for  selfish  reasons.  It  proves  what  you  may  be 
capable  of  feeling  .  .  .  for  me,  one  of  these  days." 

The  mingled  dignity  and  humility  of  his  tone  so  moved 
her  that  her  only  answer  was  an  impulsive  pressure  of 


PROLOGUE.  5 

the  hand  resting  on  her  arm  :  and  they  went  forward  for 
a  long  while  without  further  speech,  the  muleteer  having 
set  off  for  the  summit  by  a  series  of  short  cuts  known  to 
his  kind. 

Before  long  massed  pines  were  above  and  below  them ; 
their  jagged  stems  and  branches  sharply  imprinted  on 
stretches  of  sunlit  glacier,  and  on  the  pathway  in  mottled 
patches  of  shadow. 

Eldred  Lenox  walked  close  to  his  wife,  one  hand  resting 
on  the  crupper  behind  her.  The  man's  intensity  of  feeling 
did  not  rise  readily  to  the  surface ;  and  a  certain  proud 
sensitiveness,  the  cardinal  weakness  of  big  natures,  with- 
held him  from  the  full  expression  of  an  emotion  to  which 
she  could  not  adequately  respond.  He  was  content  to 
wait,  and  hope ;  and  in  the  meanwhile,  he  walked  at  her 
side  wrapt  in  the  mere  joy  of  possession;  one  of  the 
strongest,  yet  least  recognised  passions  of  a  man's  heart. 
From  time  to  time  he  glanced  at  her  attentively;  and 
each  glance  strengthened  his  faith  in  that  which  had 
come  upon  him,  sudden  as  an  earthquake,  and  no  less 
subversive  of  ancient  landmarks,  of  confirmed  prejudices 
and  convictions  in  regard  to  the  woman  element  in  man's 
life. 

For  Quita  Lenox,  though  far  from  beautiful,  in  the 
accepted  sense,  was  undeniably  good  to  look  at.  Coils  of 
soft  hair,  golden  in  the  sun,  brown  in  the  shade;  eyes 
neither  grey  nor  green,  intensified  by  unusually  large 
pupils,  and  by  brows  and  lashes  almost  black ;  a  straight 
nose,  low  at  the  root ;  a  mouth  too  long,  too  mobile  for 
beauty,  its  emotional  quality  safeguarded  by  an  uncom- 
promising chin,  completed  a  face  whose  charm  lay  in  no 
particular  excellence  of  details ;  but  in  the  vivid  spirit, — 
quick  to  see,  to  feel,  to  understand, — that  informed  and 
harmonised  a  somewhat  contradictory  whole.  An  abiding 
sense  of  humour,  hovering  about  her  lips  and  in  her  eyes, 
kept  the  world  sane  and  sweet  for  her,  and  leavened  her 
whole  outlook  on  life.  A  minor  quality  completed  her 
charm.  By  virtue  of  the  French  blood  in  her  veins,  she 
imparted,  even  to  the  simplest  garments,  an  air  of  dis- 
tinction, of  exquisite  finish,  to  which  an  Englishwoman 
rarely  attains. 


6  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

At  three  -  and  -  twenty  Quita  Lenox  was  very  artist, 
though  not,  as  yet,  very  woman.  The  complex  Ego,  which 
is  the  keystone  of  Art,  had  not  been  tested  and  dominated 
by  the  great  simple  forces,  which  are  the  keystone  of 
life. 

But  her  husband  was  in  no  mood  to  analyse  her  appear- 
ance, or  her  charm.  He  wanted  beyond  all  things  to 
know  what  was  passing  in  her  mind;  and  because  his 
own  thoughts  were  too  passionate  for  utterance,  he  waited 
for  her  to  speak.  But  for  the  first  time  in  his  knowledge 
of  her,  he  waited  in  vain.  Protracted  silence  on  her 
part  was  a  phenomenon  so  unusual,  that  at  length  he 
turned  to  her  definitely,  a  shadow  of  misgiving  in  his 
clear  Northern  eyes. 

"  Are  you  thinking  over  it  all  very  seriously  .  .  .  now 
that  it  is  done  past  undoing  ? " 

He  smiled  in  speaking,  and  she  met  his  look  with  her 
accustomed  frankness. 

"  And  if  I  am  .  .  .  ?  Surely  that  service  gives  one 
food  for  reflection.  I  had  not  so  much  as  looked  at  it 
since  early  days  when  curiosity  impelled  me  to  read  it 
through  ;  and  weddings  have  never  been  in  my  line. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  was  thinking  just  then  what  un- 
accountable creatures  we  men  and  women  are !  How  we 
ponder,  and  debate,  and  fuss  over  trifles,  and  then  plunge 
headlong  past  the  big  turning-points  of  life,  without  a 
thought  of  the  consequences  lurking  round  the  corner. 
Which  doesn't  mean  that  you  and  I  need  spell  our  con- 
sequences with  a  capital  C,  or  label  them  tragic  in 
advance,"  she  added  with  a  laugh.  "  For  honestly,  it 
seems  to  me  that  a  rising  artist,  and  a  rising  explorer, 
both  devout  worshippers  of  the  eternal  hills,  may  rea- 
sonably expect  to  possess  many  ideas  and  interests  in 
common:  and  those  are  the  bricks  out  of  which  two 
people  build  their  House  of  Happiness,  riest-ce  pas, 
mon  ami?" 

"  Yes ;  if  you  choose  to  leave  mutual  trust,  and  mutual 
devotion,  out  on  the  doorstep." 

"  I  don't  choose :  only,  they  are  not  the  bricks,  Eldred. 
One  is  the  foundation-stone ;  and  the  other, — the  other  is 
a  great  mysterious  Something,  that  transforms  the  House 


PROLOGUE.  7 

into  an  enchanted  palace.  But  we  must  be  content  to 
begin  with  the  House, — do  you  see  ? " 

"  Yes — I  see.  I  am  abundantly  content  to  begin  on  any 
terms." 

Something  in  the  man's  tone  impelled  her  to  lean  out- 
ward a  little,  so  that  her  shoulder  rested  lightly  against 
the  arm  passed  behind  her. 

"  You  are  much  too  good  to  me,  dear,"  she  said  softly. 
"  I  don't  think  one  could  possibly  live  with  you  and  fail 
to  love  you.  That  is  why  I  have  dared  to  take  the 
risk." 

He  did  not  answer  in  words,  nor  did  he  give  her  the 
kiss  she  half  expected ;  but  his  hand  deserted  the  crupper, 
and  the  mule  pricked  a  velvet  ear  at  the  check  in  his 
progress.  Then  Quita  straightened  herself,  as  if  reasserting 
her  cherished  independence. 

"  After  all,  it  is  more  interesting,  in  some  ways,  not  to 
have  everything  cut  and  dried  from  the  start,"  she  went 
on,  striking  off  at  a  tangent,  with  an  innate  perversity 
incomprehensible  to  a  mere  man.  "  It  prevents  a  headlong 
fall  into  the  commonplace :  and  there  is  a  certain  excite- 
ment in  looking  on,  so  to  speak,  at  one's  own  personal 
drama,  without  feeling  quite  sure  of  its  developments." 

Lenox  knitted  his  brows.  He  could  not  always  keep 
pace  with  her  more  fantastic  moods. 

"Quita,  are  you  talking  nonsense?"  he  asked  with  a 
touch  of  irritation. 

"No." 

"Well,  I  wish  you  were.  I  don't  like  that  sort  of 
attitude  towards  serious  things;  and  I  don't  understand 
what  you  mean  about  looking  on  at  one's  own  life.  It 
sounds  brutally  detached,  not  to  say  egotistical." 

"  That  is  because  you  only  climb  mountains  and  handle 
men,  mon  cher,  instead  of  trying  to  paint  them,  or  translate 
them  into  verse.  You  are  spared  the  artist's  complication 
of  a  dual  personality ;  of  two  souls  imprisoned  in  one 
body ;  the  one  who  enjoys,  and  loves,  and  suffers ;  and 
the  one  who  looks  on,  and  picks  every  emotion  to  pieces. 
I  am  afraid  the  one  you  disapprove  of  has  had  the  upper 
hand  in  me  so  far.  Perhaps  it  is  your  mission  to  develop 
the  other  into  a  healthier  state  of  activity." 


8  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  I  hope  to  Heaven  it  may  be,"  her  husband  answered 
fervently.  "The  present  state  of  things  strikes  me  as  a 
trifle  inhuman." 

"  But  indeed  I  am  not  inhuman !  Only  ...  we  have 
still  a  good  deal  to  learn  about  one  another,  Eldred, 
although  we  are  man  and  wife.  You  confess  to  an 
amazing  ignorance  of  women;  while  my  own  varied  ex- 
perience of  men  has  lain  chiefly  among  'the  sayers  of 
words';  and  one  can  hardly  class  you  under  that 
heading ! " 

"  Good  Lord,  no !     I  should  hope  not." 

Quita  threw  up  her  head  and  laughed  outright. 

"  Really,  Eldred,  you  are  delightful ! " 

"  Glad  to  hear  it,"  Lenox  replied,  a  shade  of  sarcasm  in 
his  tone.  "  It's  the  first  time  I  have  been  accused  of  such 
a  thing." 

He  quickened  his  pace ;  and  she,  divining  a  slight  jar  in 
the  atmosphere,  said  no  more.  The  supreme  art  in  human 
intercourse  is  the  art  of  punctuation,  and  in  the  long 
pause  that  ensued,  silence  accomplished  her  perfect  work. 

Higher  up  they  emerged  on  an  open  space  of  roadway, 
where  the  pines  came  abruptly  to  an  end ;  and  the  path 
shelved  sheer  from  its  broken  railing  to  the  Visp  Valley 
below.  Instinctively  Quita  drew  rein  and  drank  in  every 
detail  of  the  vision  before  her  with  the  wordless  satisfac- 
tion that  is  the  hall-mark  of  the  true  Nature- worshipper. 
Lenox  stood  quietly  at  her  side,  his  gaze  riveted  on  her 
face.  He  had  seen  many  mountains,  giants  among  their 
kind ;  but  never  till  now  had  he  beheld  the  glory  of  them 
reflected  in  a  woman's  eyes.  At  that  moment  they  seemed 
the  only  sentient  things  in  a  world  of  rock,  and  snow,  and 
sunshine.  It  was  as  if  the  round  earth,  and  the  pillars 
thereof,  had  been  made  for  them,  and  them  alone. 

Above  the  road  a  weather-beaten  hut  struck  an  isolated 
note  of  life,  and  across  the  valley  Matterhorn  towered, — 
solitary,  superb, — his  rugged  head  and  shoulders  thrust 
heavenward  through  a  diaphanous  scarf  of  cloud. 

Suddenly  Quita  Lenox  fronted  her  husband,  and  his 
face  softened  to  a  smile  that  hovered  in  the  eyes  an 
appreciable  time  before  it  reached  his  lips. 

"  A  la  bonheur  !  "  she  said,  smiling  back  at  him.     "  We 


PROLOGUE.  9 

break  our  journey  here.  You  can  tether  '  Modestina ' 
to  that  stump.  I  must  do  a  rough  sketch  of  this,  and 
put  in  notes  for  colouring,  while  you  sit  beside  me  and 
smoke,  and  talk.  When  it's  complete,  I'll  present  it  to 
you  as  a  memento  of  to-day.  Will  that  suit  you?" 

"  Eather ! " 

He  lifted  her  from  the  saddle,  in  defiance  of  her  laugh- 
ing protest,  and,  holding  her  at  arm's  length,  looked  long 
and  steadily  into  her  eyes,  as  though  he  would  reach  and 
capture,  by  force  of  will,  the  elusive  spirit  that  lived  in 
their  depths. 

It  was  in  these  rare  moments  of  revelation  that  Quita 
was  troubled  by  a  disconcerting  sense  of  exchanging  false 
coin  for  gold.  She  tried  to  free  herself  from  his  grasp; 
and  the  colour  deepened  in  her  cheeks. 

"  Eldred, — let  me  go ! "  she  said,  with  something  less 
than  her  wonted  assurance.  "  It  frightens  me  when  you 
look  right  into  me  like  that." 

"  Frightens  you  ?  Dearest,  .  .  .  what  nonsense ! "  But 
for  once  he  disregarded  her  behest. 

"It's  not  nonsense.  It  makes  me  see  too  clearly  the 
chained-up  forces  hidden  under  that  surface  quietness  of 
yours.  I  think  you  might  be  rather  terrible  if  they  ever 
broke  loose." 

He  laughed  abruptly,  and  let  her  go. 

"  I  keep  them  chained  up,  I  promise  you :  and  they  are 
never  likely  to  do  you  any  harm.  Now,  begin  upon  your 
picture,  and  don't  alarm  yourself  about  nothing." 

She  watched  him  thoughtfully  as  he  led  "  Modestina  " 
away,  and  tethered  her  to  a  pine  stump.  It  needed  small 
discernment  to  perceive  that  the  equitable  poise  of  his 
character  rested  upon  the  noiseless  conviction  that  he  was 
a  man,  and  a  gentleman :  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  she 
did  well  to  feel  proud  of  her  husband. 

With  which  satisfying  conviction  she  settled  herself 
upon  a  slab  of  a  rock,  whipped  out  the  sketch-book,  that 
hung  permanently  in  a  flat  leather  bag  at  her  waist,  and 
plunged  headlong  into  her  picture.  For  in  her  case,  im- 
pression and  expression  were  almost  simultaneous:  the 
most  distinctive  quality  of  her  work  being  the  rapidity  and 
certainty  with  which  she  produced  her  effects. 


10  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

Lenox,  returning,  extended  his  firmly -knit  length  of 
figure  on  the  sloping  ground  near  by,  and  flung  aside  his 
cap ;  thus  revealing  more  clearly  the  rugged  contour  of 
his  head,  and  the  black  hair  whose  obstinate  ripple  no 
amount  of  brushing  could  subdue.  With  leisurely  de- 
liberation he  filled  his  pipe,  and  surrendered  himself  to 
the  enchantment  of  the  hour,  before  it  slipped  from  him 
into  the  region  of  accomplished  things.  And  it  is  this 
very  evanescence,  this  rainbow  quality  of  our  hill-top 
moments,  that  adds  such  poignant  intensity  to  their 
charm. 

Much  of  their  brief  courtship  had  been  spent  in  such 
wordless  companionship:  the  man  smoking  beside  her, 
with,  or  without,  a  book,  while  she  worked ;  and  he  never 
wearied  of  watching  that  abiding  miracle,  a  picture  spring- 
ing to  life  under  an  artist's  fingers. 

"You're  not  likely  to  give  up  this  sort  of  thing,  I 
suppose  ? "  he  asked  suddenly ;  and  she  turned  upon  him 
with  blank  astonishment  in  her  eyes. 

"  Give  it  up  ?  .  .  .  You  might  as  well  ask  if  I  shall  ever 
give  up  seeing,  or  hearing,  or  feeling.  It  is  a  part  of  me. 
You  don't  want  me  to  give  it  up,  do  you  ? " 

"Far  from  it.  I  was  merely  thinking  that  it  seems 
suicidal  for  an  artist  of  your  quality  to  bury  herself  alive 
in  a  little  Frontier  station,  on  the  edge  of  a  desert,  more 
than  a  hundred  miles  from  anywhere." 

"  Eubbish !  It  simply  means  a  new  range  of  subjects 
for  my  brush.  Tell  me  a  little  about  it,  please.  I  like  to 
try  and  picture  things  in  advance ;  and  I  am  lamentably 
ignorant  about  this  remarkable  Frontier  Force,  to  which 
I  now  have  the  honour  to  belong.  Are  we  all  on  the  wrong 
side  of  the  Indus,  always  ? " 

"Yes,  for  ever  and  ever;  except  when  we  get  away  on 
leave." 

"  And  then  we  go  camping  and  climbing  in  the  far  hills 
beyond  Kashmir,  don't  we  ? " 

"  Yes,  invariably !  For  the  rest  of  the  time  we  keep 
'  cave '  along  six  hundred  miles  of  heart-breaking  Border 
country." 

"  In  other  words,  you  are  watch-dogs  guarding  the  gates 
of  an  Empire  ? " 


PROLOGUE.  11 

"  That  sounds  far  more  imposing ;  and  it's  no  less  true. 
We  are  also  actively  engaged  in  helping  the  Indian  Gov- 
ernment to  cultivate  friendly  relations  with  the  tribes  at 
the  point  of  the  bayonet ! " 

"  And  don't  the  tribes  respond  ? " 

"  Yes,  vigorously,  to  the  tune  of  bullets  and  cold  steel ; 
so  that  we  manage  to  keep  things  pretty  lively  between 
us!  Since  we  annexed  the  Frontier,  nearly  forty  years 
ago,  the  Piffers  have  taken  part  in  more  than  thirty  Border 
expeditions,  all  told,  to  say  nothing  of  the  Afghan  War." 

Quita's  attention  had  been  diverted  from  her  picture  to 
her  husband's  face. 

"You  get  your  fill  of  fighting  at  that  rate,"  she  said. 
"  And  I  think  you  must  be  rather  magnificent  when  you 
are  fighting,  Eldred." 

Lenox  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  laughed. 

"I'm  a  keen  soldier,  if  that's  what  you're  driving  at: 
and  I  believe  the  world  holds  no  finer  school  for  character 
than  constant  active  service." 

"  I  confess  I  never  thought  of  looking  at  war  in  that 
light !  But  I  can  well  believe  it,  if  its  horrors  and  hard- 
ships turn  out  many  men  .  .  .  like  you." 

Words  and  tone  set  the  man's  pulses  in  commotion. 
But  he  clenched  his  teeth  upon  his  pipe-stem,  and  ignored 
the  personal  allusion. 

"Well,  you  can  see  for  yourself,  when  you  get  there. 
Taking  'em  all  round,  I  think  you'll  find  the  Piffers  as 
fine  a  set  of  fellows  as  you  could  wish  to  meet  anywhere ; 
and  it's  hard  work,  and  hard  conditions  of  life,  that  thrash 
them  into  shape." 

"  And  the  stations,  where  I  am  to  be  '  buried  alive '  in 
such  good  company  ? " 

"  I'm  afraid  the  stations  are  the  least  satisfactory  part 
of  the  programme.  There  are  five  of  them  along  our 
north-west  strip  of  desert;  all  more  or  less  hopeless  to 
get  at.  We  play  general  post  among  them  every  two  or 
three  years,  to  avoid  stagnation  and  keep  the  men  fit. 
Just  now  my  battery's  quartered  at  Dera  Ghazee  Khan,  a 
God-forsaken  place,  right  down  by  Scindh.  I  don't  know 
how  I  have  the  cheek  to  think  of  taking  you  there." 
"  But  if  I  refuse  to  be  left  behind  .  .  ? " 


12  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"Well,  of  course  ...  in  that  case  .  .  ."  His  eyes, 
looking  up  into  hers,  completed  the  sentence. 

"I'm  not  a  'society  woman,'  remember;  and  setting 
aside  your  companionship,  I  should  prefer  a  '  God-forsaken 
place '  on  the  Indian  Frontier  to  St  John's  Wood  or  Upper 
Tooting,  any  day!  I  am  prepared  to  find  it  all  very 
interesting." 

"  So  you  may,  at  the  start.  But  the  interest  is  likely 
to  wear  thin  after  the  first  few  years  of  it." 

"  Well,  perhaps  by  that  time  we  shall  have  arrived  at 
the  enchanted  palace,  and  then  nothing  else  will  matter 
at  all ! — There  now ;  I've  done  all  I  can  to  my  sketch  for 
the  present.  Shall  we  go  on  ? " 

Lenox  roused  himself,  not  without  reluctance;  and 
they  went  on  accordingly. 

Towards  the  summit,  trees  grew  rare :  and  they  found 
the  solitary  hotel  perched  aloft,  upon  an  open  space ;  a 
hive  of  restless  shifting  human  life,  set  in  the  midst  of 
the  changeless  hills. 

After  a  short  interview  with  the  manager's  wife,  they 
found  themselves  alone  again,  in  the  private  sitting-room 
engaged  by  Lenox.  A  wood  fire  burned  merrily  in  the 
open  hearth,  for  September  evenings  are  chilly  at  that 
altitude ;  and  the  windows,  looking  westward,  gave 
generous  admittance  to  a  flood  of  afternoon  sunlight. 

Eldred,  standing  on  the  hearth-rug,  surveyed  all  things 
in  an  access  of  silent  satisfaction ;  while  Quita  moved 
lightly  to  and  fro,  frankly  interested  in  details. 

"  Oh,  how  I  love  the  cleanness  and  emptiness  of  these 
Swiss  rooms ! "  she  exclaimed  at  last.  "  They  make  one 
feel  so  unspeakably  wholesome  and  good.  And  we  are 
actually  going  to  have  dinner  here,  you  and  I  ?  Just  our 
two  selves  !  How  strange  ! " 

On  a  sudden  impulse  she  came  close  to  him,  and  stand- 
ing before  him,  took  the  lapels  of  his  coat,  one  in  each 
hand. 

"Eldred,  ...  I  don't  seem  able  to  take  it  in  at  all! 
Other  brides  have  so  much  of  external  paraphernalia  to 
emphasise  the  fact  they  have  closed  one  chapter  of  life, 
and  begun  another.  But  except  for  that  dreamlike  half- 
hour  in  church,  you  and  I  seem  merely  to  have  come  away 


PROLOGUE.  13 

together  for  an  everyday  outing;  and  there  is  nothing 
anywhere,  .  .  .  except  this," — she  lifted  the  third  finger 
of  her  left  hand, — "  to  make  me  realise  that  we  are  act- 
ually .  .  .  married." 

She.  spoke  the  last  word  under  her  breath ;  and  almost 
before  it  was  out,  he  had  caught  her  to  himself,  and  kissed 
her  fervently,  again  and  again. 

"  Does  that  help  you  to  realise  it  a  little  better,  .  .  .  my 
wife  ? "  he  whispered  ;  and  for  answer  she  drew  in  a  long 
breath  that  was  almost  a  sob.  He  released  her  at  once ; 
and  as  she  faced  him,  flushed  and  breathless,  he  saw  that 
tears  stood  in  her  eyes. 

"  Why,  .  .  .  why  did  you  never  .  .  .  kiss  me  ...  like 
that  before  ? "  she  asked  very  low. 

"  God  knows  I  have  wanted  to,  a  hundred  times,"  he 
answered.  "But  I  think  I  was  afraid  you  might  .  .  . 
hate  it.  Why  do  you  ask,  though  ?  Would  it  have  made 
any  difference  between  us  if  I  had  ? " 

"  I  can't  tell ;  ...  oh,  I  can't  tell !  Only  .  .  .  you  have 
been  so  restrained,  so  unlike  an  ...  ordinary  lover,  that 
I  never  dreamed  it  could  mean  as  much  to  you  ...  as 
all  that  .  ."  She  pulled  herself  together  with  an  effort. 
"  Now  I  am  going  to  take  off  my  things,"  she  said.  Don't 
come,  please.  I  want  to  get  away  by  myself." 

A  moment  later  he  stood  alone,  between  the  sunlight 
and  the  firelight,  gazing  blankly  at  the  door  that  hid  her 
from  view ;  and  wondering  whether  he  had  advanced  or 
retarded  matters  by  his  unpremeditated  flash  of  self- 
revelation. 


II. 

"A  turn,  and  we  stand  in  the  heart  of  things." 

— BROWNING. 

When  Eldred  Lenox  sailed  from  India  six  months 
earlier,  he  would  have  scouted  as  impossible  the  sug- 
gestion that  he  might  bring  a  wife  back  with  him  on  his 
return:  and  his  uncompromising  avoidance  of  women, 
from  boyhood  upward,  had  seemed  to  justify  him  in  his 
assurance.  But  Nature  is  inexorable.  She  has  her  own 


14  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

methods  of  accomplishing  those  things  that  are  necessary 
to  a  man's  salvation:  and  behold  in  three  months  the 
impossible  had  come  to  pass.  The  giant  Mirabeau  was 
right: — "ce  bete  de  mot"  ought  by  now  to  be  struck  out 
of  our  dictionaries. 

Lenox  knew  little  of  half  measures:  and,  having  suc- 
cumbed,— in  spite  of  himself,  in  spite  of  inherent  prejudices 
and  convictions, — he  succumbed  heart  and  soul.  That 
which  he  had  unduly  scorned,  he  now  unduly  exalted. 
Only  Time  and  the  woman  could  lead  him  into  the  Middle 
Way,  which  is  the  way  of  truth.  For  beneath  the  surface 
hardness  of  the  Scot  lurked  the  fire,  the  imaginative  force, 
the  proud  sensitiveness  of  the  Celt :  a  heritage  from  his 
Cornish  mother,  whose  untimely  death  had  left  her  two 
younger  sons  in  the  hands  of  a  bachelor  uncle,  of  red-hot 
Calvinistic  views.  Their  father — a  man  of  an  altogether 
different  stamp — had  met  his  boys  on  rare  occasions,  and 
ardently  desired  to  know  more  of  them :  but  an  Afghan 
knife  had  ended  his  career  before  he  could  find  leisure  to 
complete  their  acquaintance.  The  history  of  Anglo-India 
is  one  long  chronicle  of  such  minor  tragedies. 

Thus  fire-eating  Jock  Lenox  had  exercised  iron  rule 
over  his  charges,  unhampered  by  parental  interference : 
had  reared  them  in  an  unquestioning  fear  of  God,  and  an 
unquestioning  distrust  of  more  than  half  His  creatures : 
had  impressed  upon  them,  in  season  and  out  of  season, 
that  woman  was  the  one  fatal  element  in  a  man's  life, 
the  author  of  nine-tenths  of  its  tragedy,  complexity,  and 
crime. 

Yet  "one  touch  of  Nature"  had  annulled,  in  three  months, 
the  work  of  twenty  years.  So  much  for  education ! 

For  a  while  Lenox  stood  motionless  where  his  wife 
had  left  him,  as  though  life  itself  were  suspended  until 
her  return :  for  despite  the  glory  of  autumn  sunshine,  of 
leaping  flames  upon  the  hearth,  the  room,  robbed  of  her 
presence,  seemed  colourless,  dead. 

Then,  as  the  minutes  passed  and  she  did  not  reappear, 
restlessness  took  possession  of  him ;  sure  sign  that  he  was 
very  deeply  moved.  He  crossed  to  the  open  window,  but 
even  the  colossal  calm  of  the  mountains  failed  to  quell  the 
tumult  of  passion  in  his  veins.  Her  last  words  left  him 


PROLOGUE.  15 

anxious.  There  could  be  no  peace  till  he  had  interpreted 
them  to  his  full  satisfaction ;  and  the  power  of  inter- 
preting a  woman's  words  could  not  be  reckoned  among  his 
attributes. 

Suddenly  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  had  pocketed 
two  unopened  envelopes  before  starting  for  church. 
He  drew  them  out ;  rather  because  he  needed  some 
definite  occupation,  than  because  he  felt  curious  as  to 
their  contents.  Men  of  his  type  are  rarely  overburdened 
with  correspondents. 

The  first  was  a  business  letter.  He  read  it  with  scant 
attention,  and  returned  it  to  his  breast-pocket.  The 
second  envelope  bore  the  handwriting  of  his  senior  sub- 
altern, now  in  England  on  short  leave.  The  two  men  were 
close  friends ;  but  Eldred's  last  letter  had  been  written  four 
months  ago ;  and  the  envelope  in  his  hand  contained 
Richardson's  tardy  response.  He  broke  the  seal  with  a 
smile  at  thought  of  his  subaltern's  astonishment  when  he 
should  learn  the  truth.  The  letter  was  longer  than  usual ; 
and  in  glancing  through  it  hurriedly,  the  name  Miss 
Maurice  caught  his  eye.  "  Great  Scott ! "  he  muttered 
aloud;  then,  with  quickened  interest,  began  upon  the 
second  page,  ignoring  the  opening. 

"  Wonder  if  you  have  run  across  the  Maurices  in  Zer- 
matt,"  wrote  Max  Richardson,  with  no  faintest  prevision 
of  the  circumstances  in  which  the  thoughtless  lines  would 
be  read  by  his  friend.  "  Artists  both  of  them,  brother  and 
sister;  and  a  rather  remarkable  couple,  I'm  told.  She 
seems  to  have  made  a  hit  at  the  Academy ;  and  the  cousins 
I'm  staying  with  are  very  keen  about  her.  I  happened  to 
mention  that  I  was  writing  to  a  chap  in  Zermatt,  and  they 
begged  me  to  ask  if  you  had  heard  or  seen  anything  of  this 
Miss  Maurice.  There's  a  bit  of  a  romance  about  her ;  that's 
what  has  pricked  their  interest.  Seems  she  was  engaged  to 
Sir  Eoger  Bennet  this  season.  A  swell  in  the  Art  patron 
line.  Lost  his  heart  at  first  sight.  But  evidently  on 
closer  acquaintance  found  her  rather  a  handful,  and  too 
much  of  a  Bohemian  to  suit  his  British  taste !  At  all 
events  there  was  a  flare-up  over  something  about  three 
months  ago,  and  Sir  Roger  backed  out,  politely  but  defin- 
itely. It  seems  that  Miss  Maurice  was  a  good  deal  cut  up. 


16  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

Went  off  to  Zermatt  with  her  brother.  And  now  rumour 
has  it  that  she  is  engaged,  if  not  married,  to  some  other 
chap  out  there,  I  suppose  by  way  of  a  gentle  intimation  to 
Sir  Roger  that  he  hasn't  broken  her  heart.  My  cousins 
are  eaten  up  with  curiosity  to  know  if  it's  true.  Women 
appear  to  be  capable  of  that  sort  of  thing.  But  it  strikes 
a  mere  man  as  playing  rather  low  down  on  a  luckless 
devil  who  has  done  her  no  harm :  and  I  don't  envy  him 
his  hasty  bargain,  or  the  repenting  at  leisure  that's  bound 
to  follow.  Lord,  what  fools  we  men  are  !  And  how  easily 
we  lose  our  heads  over  a  woman !  All  except  you — the 
Great  Invulnerable,  looking  down  upon  our  folly  from  the 
superior  height  of  a  snow-peak.  .  .  ." 

Lenox  read  no  further.  The  last  words  enraged  him, 
like  a  blow  between  the  eyes,  and  set  the  blood  hammer- 
ing in  his  temples.  It  would  seem,  at  times,  that  Fate 
selects  with  fiendish  nicety  the  psychological  moment 
when  her  arrows  will  strike  deepest,  and  stick  fastest. 
Thus,  when  his  thirst  was  at  its  height,  Lenox  found  the 
cup  dashed  from  his  lips ;  and  that  by  the  hand  of  his 
best  friend  : — a  master-stroke  of  Olympian  comedy. 

With  a  curse  he  flung  the  letter  on  to  the  table. 

Wounded  love,  wounded  pride,  and  baulked  desire  so 
clashed  in  him  that  clear  thought  was  impossible.  He 
only  knew  that  he  had  been  deliberately  deceived,  the 
most  intolerable  knowledge  to  a  man  incapable  of  deceit : 
and  with  the  knowledge  all  the  natural  savage  in  him 
sprang  to  life.  If  Eichardson  had  appeared  before  him  in 
the  flesh,  it  is  doubtful  whether  he  could  have  stayed  his 
hand :  the  more  so,  since  he  believed  that  the  man  had 
written  the  truth:  that  this  girl — whom  it  seemed  that 
he  had  wooed  with  quite  unnecessary  reverence  —  had 
taken  the  best  he  could  give,  and  utilised  it  as  a  mere 
salve  for  her  wounded  vanity. 

He  understood  now  why  her  heart  had  proved  more 
difficult  of  access  than  her  hand.  He  had  believed  it 
unawakened ;  had  dreamed,  as  lovers  will,  of  warming 
it  into  life  with  the  fire  of  his  own  great  love  :  and  lo,  he 
found  himself  forestalled  by  this  execrable  man  in  Eng- 
land. Clearly  he  had  been  a  fool ; — an  infatuated  fool ! 
He  stabbed  himself  with  the  epithet :  and  a  vivid  memory 


PROLOGUE.  1*7 

of  his  uncle's  stock  cynicisms  turned  the  knife  in  the 
wound.  All  the  prejudices  and  tenets  of  his  youth  rushed 
back  upon  him  now :  an  avenging  host,  mocking  at  his 
discomfiture ;  narrowing  his  judgment ;  blinding  him  to 
the  woman's  point  of  view. 

And  while  he  still  stood  battling  with  himself  in  a 
vain  effort  to  regain  his  shaken  self-control,  the  bedroom 
door  opened,  and  his  wife  came  quickly  towards  him. 

His  changed  aspect  arrested  her :  and  the  sight  of  her 
facing  him  thus,  with  the  sunlight  in  her  eyes  and  on  her 
hair,  her  young  purity  of  outline  emphasised  by  the  sim- 
plicity of  her  dress,  so  stirred  his  senses,  that,  in  defiance 
of  pride,  the  whole  heart  of  him  went  out  to  her,  claiming 
her  for  his  own.  But  it  is  at  just  such  crises  that  habit 
reveals  itself  as  the  hand  of  steel  in  a  silken  glove ;  and 
before  she  could  open  her  lips,  Jock  Lenox  had  stretched 
out  a  ghostly  arm  from  his  grave  in  Aberdeen,  and  shut 
to  the  door  of  his  nephew's  heart. 

Quita  glanced  hurriedly  from  the  discarded  letter  to 
her  husband's  face. 

"  My  dear,  .  .  .  what  has  gone  wrong  ?  You  look 
terrible.  Have  you  had  bad  news?" 

The  irony  of  the  question  brought  a  smile  to  his  lips. 

"Yes.  I  have  had  bad  news.  Eead  it  for  yourself." 
And  he  pushed  the  letter  towards  her. 

"Why?     Who  is  it  from?" 

"A  friend  of  mine,  in  England,  who  seems  to  know 
a  good  deal  more  about  you  than  I  do." 

"  What  on  earth  do  you  mean  ? "  she  asked  sharply. 

"You  know  well  enough  what  I  mean.  Eead  that 
letter  if  your  memory  needs  refreshing." 

Her  first  instinct  was  indignant  refusal.  Then  curio- 
sity conquered.  Besides,  she  wanted  above  all  things  to 
gain  time :  and  while  she  read,  her  husband  watched 
her  keenly,  with  God  knows  what  of  forlorn  hope  at 
his  heart. 

But  a  twisted  truth  is  more  formidable  than  a  lie ;  and 
intuition  warned  Quita  that  Lenox  was  in  no  mood  to 
appreciate  the  fine  shades  of  distinction  between  the 
literal  facts  and  Max  Kichardson's  free  translation  of 
the  same.  His  frankly  masculine  comments  fired  her 

B 


18  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

cheeks ;  and  at  the  sight  Lenox  could  restrain  himself 
no  longer. 

"  By  Heaven !  You  care  for  that  fellow  still ! "  he 
broke  out  hotly.  "  And  you  had  the  effrontery  to  take 
those  solemn  words  on  your  lips  this  morning,  with  the 
love  of  ...  another  man  in  your  heart ! " 

Quita  Lenox,  whatever  her  failings,  lacked  neither 
spirit  nor  courage.  She  threw  back  her  head,  and  faced 
his  anger  bravely. 

"  How  dare  you  say  such  things  to  me  ?  I  ...  don't 
care  for  him.  I — I  hate  him ! " 

"  Proof  conclusive.  Indifference  kills  hatred.  No  doubt 
you  wanted  to  convince  yourself,  and  him,  that  you  were 
indifferent ;  and  to  that  end  you  must  needs  crucify  the 
first  man  who  comes  handy.  An  admirable  sample  of 
feminine  justice !" 

"  Eldred,  .  .  .  you  have  no  right  to  speak  like  that.  I 
won't  hear  you." 

"  I  have  every  right ;  and  you  shall  hear  me.  It  was 
one  thing  to  know  that  you  could  not  give  me  all  I  wanted 
at  the  start.  One  hoped  to  set  that  right,  in  time.  But 
to  accept  me  because  another  man's  defection  had  piqued 
your  vanity,  .  .  .  God  knows  how  you  could  dare  to  do 
it !  I  see  now  why  you  found  me  unlike  an  ordinary 
lover.  No  doubt  that  other  fellow — curse  him — took  full 
advantage  of  his  privileged  position  :  while  to  me  you 
seemed  a  thing  so  sacred  that  I  hardly  dared  lay  a  hand 
on  you.  I  might  have  known  that  a  man  who  is  fool 
enough  to  put  a  woman  on  a  pedestal,  is  bound  to  pay 
a  long  price  for  his  folly." 

He  was  lashing  himself  more  mercilessly  than  he  lashed 
her :  and  in  the  torment  of  his  spirit  he  did  not  pause  to 
consider  the  possible  effect  of  his  words  on  a  recklessly 
impulsive  woman. 

"  Eeally  .  .  .  you  are  insufferable ! "  she  retorted,  her 
breath  coming  short  and  quick.  "  I  have  a  little  pride 
also ;  and  you  had  better  stop  before  you  push  me  too  far. 
For  I  tell  you  frankly,  I  don't  care  enough  for  you  to 
stand  this  sort  of  treatment  at  your  hands." 

The  counter-stroke  stung  like  a  lash.  The  lines  about 
his  mouth  hardened,  and  he  straightened  himself  sharply. 


PROLOGUE.  19 

"  Pity  you  were  not  more  frank  with  me  twenty-four 
hours  ago.  Then  we  might  both  have  been  spared  this 
morning's  ironical  service.  However,  the  thing  is  done 
now.  .  .  ." 

"  Indeed,  it's  not  done ! "  she  flashed  out  defiantly.  "  I 
have  no  notion  of  being  your  wife  on  sufferance,  I  assure 
you.  We  are  only  on  the  threshold  as  yet.  We  need  not 
go  a  step  farther  unless  we  choose.  And  after  what  you 
have  said  to  me,  .  .  .  I  do  not  choose." 

For  an  instant  the  man  was  stunned  into  silence ;  then, 
in  a  desperate  impulse,  took  a  step  towards  her. 

"  Quita,  .  .  .  you  don't  realise  what  you  are  saying  ? 
Nothing  can  alter  the  fact  that  we  are  man  and  wife,  now 
and  always." 

She  motioned  him  from  her  with  an  imperious  gesture. 

"  Don't  touch  me,  please.  I  do  realise,  perfectly,  that 
we  are  not  free  to  make  any  more  dangerous  experiments. 
But  we  are  at  least  free  to  live  and  work  independently  of 
one  another.  Of  course  I  know  that  you  can  compel  me 
to  remain  with  you," — her  colour  deepened  on  the  words. 
— "  But  I  know  also  that  you  have  too  much  chivalry,  too 
much  pride,  to  force  yourself  upon  me  against  my  wish." 

"  By  God,  yes ! "  he  answered  from  between  his  teeth. 
"  And  .  .  .  what  is  your  wish,  may  I  ask  ? " 

For  the  first  time  she  hesitated,  and  lowered  her  eyes. 

"  I  believe  our  wishes  are  identical,"  she  said. 

"  No  need  to  trouble  about  mine.  You  can  put  them 
out  of  court  altogether." 

His  tone  spurred  her  to  instant  decision. 

"  My  wish  is  to  go  back  to  Zermatt  at  once,  by  the  funi- 
cular ;  and  .  .  .  that  we  should  not  see  one  another  again. 
I  will  accept  nothing  from  you.  I  can  earn  my  own 
living,  as  I  have  done  till  now.  Thank  God,  Michael  is 
too  blessedly  Bohemian  to  make  a  fuss,  or  be  horrified  at 
things.  He  will  simply  be  overjoyed  to  get  me  back." 

She  turned  from  him  hastily ;  and  he  stood,  like  a  man 
paralysed,  watching  her  go.  On  the  threshold  of  the  bed- 
room door  she  looked  back. 

"  Don't  think  of  writing  to  me,  or  of  trying  to  patch  up 
a  reconciliation  between  us,"  she  said  on  a  softened  note. 
"  Mended  things  are  never  reliable.  I  can  neither  forget 


20  THE   GKEAT   AMULET. 

nor  forgive  what  you  have  said  to  me  to-day,  and  when 
you  have  had  time  to  think  things  over,  you  will  probably 
feel  thankful  that  I  had  the  courage  to  leave  you." 

The  soft  closing  of  the  door  roused  him,  and  he  sprang 
forward  with  her  name  on  his  lips.  Then  Pride  gripped 
him ;  Pride,  and  the  habit  of  self-mastery  hammered  into 
him  by  his  redoubtable  uncle.  The  fact  that  our  spirits 
thus  live  and  work,  deathlessly,  in  the  lives  and  hearts  of 
those  with  whom  we  have  come  into  contact,  is  a  form  of 
immortality  too  seldom  recognised  by  man. 

In  the  silence  that  followed,  Lenox  looked  blankly 
round  the  empty  room: — the  room  where  they  should 
have  spent  their  first  evening  together.  Then  the  irony, 
the  finality  of  it  all,  overwhelmed  him,  and  he  sank  upon 
the  nearest  chair.  "  What  have  I  done  ?  .  .  .  My  God, 
what  have  I  done  ? "  he  breathed  aloud.  And  it  is  char- 
acteristic of  the  man  that,  for  all  his  grinding  sense  of 
injury,  he  blamed  himself  more  bitterly  than  he  blamed 
his  wife. 

His  eye  fell  on  the  letter,  which,  had  it  contained  a 
bombshell,  could  scarce  have  wrought  more  damage  in  so 
short  a  space  of  time.  Tearing  it  across  and  across,  he 
flung  it  into  the  fire,  and  derived  a  gloomy  satisfaction 
from  watching  it  burn.  But  though  paper  and  ink  were 
reduced  to  ashes,  neither  fire  nor  steel  could  annihilate 
the  winged  words,  thoughtlessly  penned,  that  had  altered 
the  course  of  two  lives. 

Footsteps  in  the  bedroom  brought  Lenox  again  to  his 
feet. 

He  flung  the  door  open,  expecting — he  knew  what  .  .  . 

An  apathetic  hotel  porter  was  removing  Quita's  trunk : 
and  nothing  that  had  been  said  or  done  in  the  last  half- 
hour  had  hurt  him  so  keenly  as  this  insignificant  item : — 
the  touch  of  commonplace  that  levels  all  things. 

With  a  gesture  he  indicated  his  own  portmanteau. 
"  Take  that  also,"  he  said,  and  strode  out  of  the  room. 

At  least  he  had  the  right  to  shield  her  from  comment. 
To  all  appearance  they  must  leave  the  place  together: 
and  he  settled  his  account  with  the  smiling  manageress, 
adding  simply :  "  Madame  has  had  bad  news." 

He  took  a  later  train  down  the  hill:  deposited  his  trunk 


PROLOGUE.  21 

in  a  hotel  bedroom ;  and  spent  his  wedding-night  under 
the  stars;  walking,  ceaselessly,  aimlessly,  to  deaden  the 
ache  at  his  heart. 

Next  morning  he  despatched  half  a  dozen  lines  to 
Eichardson  disowning  all  knowledge  of  Miss  Maurice's 
concerns:  and  three  weeks  later  he  sailed  from  Brindisi 
without  seeing  his  wife  again. 


22 


BOOK  I.-AFTEB  FIVE  YEARS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

"  I,  who  am  Love,  burn  with  too  fierce  a  fire, 
Even  if  I  only  pass  and  touch  the  soul, 
Life  is  not  long  enough  to  heal  the  wound. 
I  pass,  but  my  touch  for  ever  leaves  its  mark. 
I,  who  am  Love,  burn  with  too  fierce  a  fire." 

—Turkish  Song. 

MAX  RICHARDSON  lifted  the  "  chick,"  paused  on  the  thres- 
hold, and  surveyed  the  empty  room. 

A  bachelor's  room,  in  a  frontier  bungalow,  boasts  little 
of  beauty,  less  of  luxury.  The  legend  of  Anglo-India — 
"Here  to-day,  and  gone  to-morrow" — is  visible  on  its 
nail  -  disfigured  walls,  battered  camp  chairs  and  tables, 
supplemented  by  chance  purchases  from  the  "  effects  "  of 
brother  officers,  retired,  or  untimely  hurried  out  of  "  the 
day,  and  the  dust,  and  the  ecstasy." 

To  the  observer  for  whom  one  hint  of  human  revela- 
tion outweighs  in  value  a  warehouseful  of  inexpressive 
furniture,  a  room  of  this  type  holds  one  superlative  in- 
terest. It  is  an  index  of  character  no  less  infallible  than 
its  owner's  face.  Its  salient  features  may  tell  the  same 
tale  as  a  dozen  others  in  the  same  station — the  tale  of 
a  soldier  going  to  and  fro  in  a  land  of  unrest.  But  its 
minor  details  reveal  the  man  beneath  the  uniform. 

There  is  as  much  individuality  after  all  in  a  soldier  as 
in  any  other  specimen  of  God's  handiwork ;  even  though 
tradition  and  the  War  Office  compel  him  to  an  external 
suggestion  of  having  been  turned  out  by  the  dozen. 

The  ramshackle  room  whereon  Eldred  Lenox  had  set 
his  seal  differed  in  one  notable  respect  from  others  of  its 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  23 

type.  It  contained  no  picture  either  of  a  woman  or  a 
horse.  The  dingy  white  wall  was  relieved  by  groups  of 
barbarous  weapons — Thibetan  daggers,  a  pair  of  wicked- 
looking  kookries,  the  jezail  and  Brown  Bess  of  Border 
tribesmen,  and  the  murderous  Afghan  knife,  whose  tri- 
angular two-foot  blade  has  disfigured  too  many  British 
uniforms. 

In  peaceful  contrast  to  these  trophies  were  one  or  two 
rough  sketches  of  the  mountain  regions  beyond  Kashmir ; 
desolate  stretches  of  glacier  and  moraine,  or  groups  of 
stately  peaks,  the  colouring  washed  in  with  a  singular 
sureness  of  touch.  There  were  also  maps,  finely  executed 
by  hand,  of  Thibet  and  Central  Asia.  To  these  fresh 
names  and  markings  were  added,  from  time  to  time,  with 
a  thrill  of  satisfaction  only  to  be  gauged  by  the  man  for 
whom  the  waste  places  of  earth  are  a  goodly  heritage,  and 
who  would  sooner  contribute  a  new  name  to  the  world's 
atlas  than  rule  a  kingdom.  Higher  up  the  twenty-foot 
walls,  heads  of  sambhur,  markor,  and  the  lesser  deer  of 
the  Himalayas  showed  dimly  in  the  light  of  one  lowered 
lamp.  Skins  of  bear  and  leopard,  and  one  or  two  costly 
Persian  prayer-rugs,  partially  hid  the  groundwork  of  dusty 
matting,  taken  over  with  the  bungalow  from  its  former 
occupant,  and  in  places  revealing  the  stone  floor  beneath. 
The  broad  mantel-shelf  was  given  over  to  books,  a  motley 
crowd  in  divers  stages  of  dilapidation.  '  The  Master  of 
Ballantrae '  shouldered  '  The  Queen's  Eegulations,'  one 
would  fancy  with  a  swaggering  hint  of  scorn ;  a  battered 
copy  of  the  '  Pilgrim's  Progress  '  stood  resignedly  between 
Bogle's  '  Mission  to  Thibet '  and  a  technical  handbook 
on  Topography,  the  whole  row  being  propped  into  posi- 
tion at  one  end  by  a  great  brown  tobacco-jar,  and  at  the 
other  by  a  bronze  image  of  the  Buddha  in  cross-legged 
meditation — a  memento  of  Lenox's  latest  expedition  to 
Thibet. 

The  solitary  lamp,  its  green  shade  set  at  a  rakish  angle, 
stood  upon  a  spacious  writing-table,  strewn  with  closely 
written  sheets  of  foolscap,  pens,  pencils,  pipes,  and  books 
of  reference,  half  a  dozen  of  these  last  being  piled  on  the 
floor,  close  to  the  writer's  chair.  It  was  the  table  of  a 
man  who  leaves  his  work  reluctantly,  leaves  it  in  such  a 


24  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

fashion  that  he  can  take  it  up  again  exactly  where  he  left 
off,  without  wasting  precious  time  upon  preliminaries. 

On  Lenox's  bare  deck-lounge  a  bull  terrier,  of  powerful 
build  and  uncompromising  ugliness,  slept  soundly,  nose 
to  tail,  and  on  one  of  the  costly  prayer-rugs  his  Pathan 
bearer  slept  also.  The  deep,  even  breathing  of  dog  and 
man  formed  a  murmurous  duet  in  the  twilight  stillness. 

All  these  things  Max  Eichardson  noted,  with  a  twinkle 
of  amusement  in  his  blue  eyes.  Every  detail  of  the  room 
spoke  to  him  eloquently  of  the  man  he  had  not  seen  for 
a  year.  Since  his  departure  on  furlough  the  battery  had 
changed  stations,  marching  across  sixty  miles  of  sand 
desert  from  Bunnoo  to  Dera  Ishmael  Khan,  familiarly 
known  as  "  Dera  Dismal,"  a  straggling  station  a  few  miles 
beyond  the  Indus. 

Kichardson  had  arrived  from  Bombay  late  that  evening, 
just  in  time  to  change  and  hurry  across  to  the  station 
mess.  To  his  surprise  Lenox  had  not  put  in  an  appear- 
ance at  the  mess  table,  and  Eichardson,  anticipating  fever, 
— the  curse  of  frontier  life, — had  left  early,  inquired  the 
way  to  his  Commandant's  bungalow,  and  now  stood  on  the 
threshold,  scarcely  able  to  believe  the  evidence  of  his 
senses.  Strange  developments  must  have  taken  place 
during  his  absence,  if  Lenox — the  woman-hater,  the  con- 
firmed recluse — were  actually  dining  out. 

He  approached  the  snoring  Pathan  and  roused  him,  not 
ungently,  with  the  toe  of  his  boot.  The  native  sprang  up, 
fumbled  at  his  disarranged  turban,  salaamed  deeply,  and 
finally  stood  upright,  a  splendid  figure  of  a  man,  six  feet 
of  him,  if  his  peaked  turban  were  taken  into  account — 
hard,  wiry,  with  aquiline  features,  grey  beard,  and  eyes 
keen  as  a  sword-thrust ;  a  man  without  knowledge  of  fear, 
cunning  and  implacable  in  hatred,  but  staunchly  devoted 
to  the  Englishman  he  served,  who,  in  his  eyes,  was  the 
first  of  living  men. 

"The  Captain  Sahib — where  is  he?"  Eichardson  de- 
manded in  the  vernacular. 

"  At  Desmond  Sahib's  bungalow  for  dinner.  By  eleven 
o'clock  he  returneth.  Your  Honour  will  await  his 
coming  ? " 

"Decidedly." 


AFTER    FIVE   YEARS.  25 

Zyarulla  turned  up  the  lamp,  and  proceeded  to  set 
whisky,  soda-water,  and  a  tumbler  among  his  master's 
scattered  papers.  Brutus,  at  the  sound  of  a  remembered 
voice,  tapped  the  cane  chair  vigorously  with  his  stump  of 
a  tail,  without  offering  to  relinquish  the  one  comfortable 
seat  in  the  room.  Eichardson  sat  down  beside  him, 
caressed  the  strong  ugly  head,  and  lit  a  cigar. 

The  Pathan  withdrew,  leaving  him  alone  with  the  dog 
and  the  whisky  bottle,  from  which  he  helped  himself 
liberally.  Then,  drawing  one  of  the  closely  written  sheets 
of  paper  towards  him,  he  fell  to  reading  it  with  interest 
and  attention.  It  was  a  minute  geographical  record  of  a 
recent  journey  through  tracts  of  mountain  country  hither- 
to unexplored,  a  journey  which  had  gained  Lenox  the 
letters  C.I.E.  after  his  name.  Kichardson,  while  failing 
to  emulate  the  older  man's  zeal  for  wanderings  that 
cut  him  off  for  months  together  from  intercourse  with 
his  kind,  was  yet  keenly  interested  in  their  practical 
outcome. 

The  stronger  light  in  which  he  now  sat  revealed  him  as 
a  big  fair  man,  by  no  means  ill- featured,  his  soldierly 
figure  emphasised  by  the  gunner  mess-dress  of  those  days, 
with  its  high  scarlet  waistcoat  and  profusion  of  round 
gilt  buttons,  in  each  of  which  twin  flames  winked  and 
sparkled.  A  suggestion  of  kindly,  uncritical  contentment 
with  things  in  general  pervaded  his  face  and  bearing. 
The  blue  eyes  were  rarely  serious  for  long  together ;  the 
mouth,  under  a  neatly  trimmed  moustache,  showed  no 
harsh  lines,  no  traces  of  past  conflict.  Had  the  great 
Overseer  of  men's  destinies  not  seen  fit  to  guide  him  to 
the  Frontier,  out  of  reach  of  demoralising  influences,  it  is 
doubtful  whether  he  would  have  escaped  the  trail  of  the 
petticoat,  the  snare  of  the  grass  -  widow  in  determined 
search  of  amusement.  As  it  was,  he  had  passed  through 
the  critical  twenties  with  a  clean  defaulter  sheet;  had 
established  himself  as  a  good  soldier  and  a  good  comrade, 
a  "  friend  -  making,  everywhere  friend -finding  soul,"  and 
the  closest  among  these  was  the  Commandant  of  his 
battery  —  a  wholesome  and  pleasant  state  of  things  for 
both. 

He  was  beginning  to  weary  of  geographical  detail,  when 


26  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

steps  sounded  in  the  verandah,  and  he  was  on  his  feet  as 
Lenox  came  in. 

"  Hullo,  Dick  !  Good  man  to  wait  for  me !  Thought  I 
should  have  seen  you  before  mess,  though.  What  do  you 
mean  by  not  coming  here  straight  ? " 

"None  of  my  fault,  old  chap.  We  were  delayed  as 
usual  crossing  that  blamed  old  Indus.  Stuck  on  a  sand- 
bank for  over  an  hour.  Gives  a  fellow  time  to  count  up 
his  sins  and  renounce  the  devil,  eh  ?  Expected  to  find 
you  at  mess,  of  course.  I  wasn't  prepared  for  this  sort 
of  upheaval  in  the  natural  order  of  things ! " 

Lenox  stooped  to  caress  Brutus,  who  was  urgently 
demanding  attention. 

"Upheavals  belong  to  the  natural  order  of  things,"  he 
said  quietly.  "The  world  would  come  to  a  standstill 
without  them.  Light  a  fresh  cheroot,  and  fill  up." 

He  indicated  the  chair  vacated  by  Brutus,  sat  down  by 
the  writing -table,  and  picking  up  a  pipe  proceeded  to 
clean  it  out  with  scrupulous  care.  Richardson  watohed 
him  the  while,  his  face  grown  suddenly  thoughtful.  Once 
he  leaned  forward,  as  though  he  had  some  urgent  matter 
to  communicate,  but  apparently  changed  his  mind,  and 
spoke  conversationally  between  puffs  at  his  cigar. 

"  Zyarulla  said  you  were  at  the  Desmonds.  Is  that  the 
cavalry  Desmond,  the  V.C.  chap,  whose  wife  was  shot  by 
a  brute  of  a  Ghazi  four  years  ago  ? " 

"  Yes ; — a  hideous  affair.  Yet,  in  the  face  of  his  second 
marriage,  one  can  hardly  call  it  a  misfortune.  It  was  one 
of  those  evils  that  had  far  better  happen  to  a  man  than 
not — that's  a  fact ;  and  there  are  a  good  many  such  on 
this  amazing  planet." 

"  Sounds  a  bit  brutal,  though,  when  the  murder  of  a 
man's  wife  is  in  question." 

"  Facts  are  apt  to  be  brutal ;  even  facts  relating  to  the 
holy  estate  of  matrimony  ! "  Lenox's  tone  had  an  edge  to 
it,  and  Eichardson  somewhat  hastily  shifted  to  another 
aspect  of  the  subject. 

"You  are  really  intimate  with  these  Desmonds, — both 
of  them?" 

"  Yes.  Both  of  them.  I  dine  there  about  once  a- week, 
just  myself  and  Desmond's  inseparable  pal,  Wyndham, 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  27 

who  is  over  there  most  days.  You  must  call  at  once. 
She  is  Colonel  Meredith's  sister,  a  magnificent  woman  in 
every  way." 

"  A  miraculous  one,  I  should  say,  to  have  dragged  such 
an  adjective  out  of  you !" 

Lenox  smiled.  "  No.  Only  one  of  the  right  sort.  The 
sort  that  makes  fine  sons.  She  has  one  already;  a 
splendid  little  chap.  The  three  of  'em  are  off  to  Dal- 
housie  early  in  May,  and  they  have  just  persuaded  me  to 
spend  my  two  months  there  instead  of  beyond  Kashmir. 
Mrs  Desmond  has  a  misguided  notion  that  I  am  knocking 
myself  to  bits  over  my  work  in  the  interior." 

"  Deuced  sensible  woman ! "  laughed  Eichardson.  "  It'll 
give  me  the  greatest  pleasure  in  life  to  shake  hands  with 
her." 

"  Come  and  do  it  to-morrow  then.  I'll  go  along  with 
you." 

While  he  talked  Lenox  had  filled  a  long  German  pipe 
with  a  bowl  of  generous  dimensions.  Now  he  set  a  match 
to  it,  and  as  the  first  blue  clouds  curled  upward  a  peculiarly 
aromatic  fragrance 'filled  the  room. 

"  That  stuff  of  yours  is  Al,"  Kichardson  remarked,  with 
an  appreciative  sniff.  "  Pretty  costly,  I  suppose  ? " 

"Yes.  My  one  extravagance.  A  special  brand  that 
I  get  out  from  home,  a  big  batch  at  a  time.  Noth- 
ing like  it  for  settling  a  man's  nerves  in  the  small 
hours." 

"Do  you  still  sit  up  over  that  sort  of  thing  till  the 
small  hours?" 

"  Yes,  most  nights.  What  moonshine  are  you  bothering 
your  head  about  now  ? " 

"  Strikes  me  that  sleeplessness  of  yours  must  be  becom- 
ing serious.  You  look  several  degrees  less  fit  than  you 
did  a  year  ago,  and  that's  saying  a  good  deal." 

Lenox  took  his  pipe  from  between  his  teeth,  and  re- 
garded his  subaltern  steadily  for  a  few  seconds. 

"  When  I  need  medical  advice  I'll  send  for  Courtenay," 
he  said,  a  hint  of  authority  in  his  bantering  tone.  "  We 
were  discussing  tobacco,  and  a  woman ;  and  the  conjunc- 
tion reminds  me  of  an  inspired  German  proverb  I  hap- 
pened on  the  other  day.  '  God  made  man  first ;  then  He 


28  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

made  woman ;  then  He  felt  so  sorry  for  man  that  He 
made — tobacco.'  Supreme,  isn't  it  ? " 

Lenox  chuckled  with  keen  appreciation  over  the  char- 
acteristically Teuton  bit  of  cynicism,  and  Eichardson 
laughed  aloud. 

"Kather  rough  on  woman,  that.  You  might  almost 
have  originated  it  yourself." 

"Wish  I  had.  I'd  be  proud  of  it.  Stick  to  tobacco, 
Dick,  and  you'll  never  be  tempted  to  blow  your  brains 
out.  You  may  take  my  word  for  it,  that  jar  of  Arcadian 
mixture,"  he  specified  it  with  his  pipe-stem, "  is  worth  all 
the  women  in  creation  put  together." 

The  bitterness  that  of  late  years  had  so  puzzled  and 
distressed  his  friend  sounded  again  in  his  tone,  and  the 
laughter  went  out  of  Richardson's  eyes. 

But  Lenox,  absorbed  in  his  own  reflections,  noticed 
nothing. 

"Let's  hear  what  you've  been  doing  with  yourself  at 
home,  Dick,"  he  said  suddenly.  "  You're  not  coherent  on 
paper.  I  want  a  few  facts.  You  went  abroad  latterly, 
didn't  you  ?  Toboganning,  and  that  sort  of  thing,  I 
suppose  ? " 

"  Yes ;  went  with  those  cousins  I  told  you  of  —  to 
Zermatt." 

"  Delectable  spot,"  Lenox  remarked  drily,  his  eyes  on 
the  bowl  of  his  pipe.  "Hope  you  enjoyed  yourself 
there  ? " 

"  Yes,  rather  so.  Had  a  rattling  good  time."  Then  he 
leaned  forward  again,  elbows  on  knees.  "  Look  here, 
Lenox,  old  chap ;  I'm  no  hand  at  skirting  round  a  sub- 
ject, and  I  feel  bound  to  tell  you  that  I  know  now  .... 
what  happened  there  five  years  ago." 

Lenox  started  so  violently  that  the  pipe  dropped  from 
his  hand.  A  minimum  of  sleep  and  a  maximum  of 
tobacco  do  not  tend  to  steady  a  man's  nerve. 

"  How  the  devil  d'you  come  to  do  that  ? "  he  asked, 
picking  up  his  fallen  treasure,  and  readjusting  its  contents. 

"Well,  you  see,  I  happened  to  be  with  my  cousins 
when  they  found  out  about  it.  Queer  what  a  deal  of 
trouble  some  women  will  take  just  to  satisfy  a  bit  of 
curiosity." 


AFTER    FIVE   YEARS.  29 

"  Damn  their  curiosity  ! "  Lenox  muttered  between  his 
teeth,  adding  something  hastily,  "  You  can  spare  me  the 
details.  Nothing  stands  a  chance  against  a  woman's  pas- 
sion for  other  people's  affairs.  Very  straight  of  you  to 
speak  out  at  once.  Don't  allude  to  it  again,  though ; — 
that's  all." 

"  But,  Lenox,"  Eichardson  persisted,  not  without  mis- 
giving, for  it  is  ill  work  tampering  with  the  reserve  of 
a  Scot,  "  there's  just  one  question  I  want  to  ask  you,  and 
I  think  I  have  a  right  to  know  the  truth.  I  remember 
writing  a  certain  letter  to  you  that  autumn  ;  a  rather  dis- 
paraging letter  about — Miss  Maurice."  The  name  tripped 
him  up,  and  he  reddened.  "  I  beg  your  pardon  ;  I  ought 
to  say  Mrs  Lenox,  though  she  still  paints  under  the  other 
name." 

"Say  Miss  Maurice,  then,  by  all  means,"  Lenox  an- 
swered coldly.  "  She  is  welcome  to  call  herself  what  she 
pleases  so  far  as  I  am  concerned.  Go  on." 

"  I  want  to  know  when  that  letter  reached  you." 

"  On  the  afternoon  of  the  day — I  was  married." 

"  Good  Lord ! "  the  other  ejaculated  blankly.  "  And  all 
that  I  wrote  of, — was  it  news  to  you  ? " 

Lenox  nodded  without  looking  up. 

"  My  dear  fellow,  for  God's  sake  don't  tell  me  that  a 
thoughtless  letter  of  mine  was  responsible " 

Lenox  rose  and  went  over  to  the  mantelpiece.  The  full 
light  on  his  face  was  more  than  he  cared  about  just 
then. 

"You  asked  for  the  truth,"  he  said,  in  a  hard,  even 
voice,  "and — you  have  made  a  clean  shot  at  it.  We 
separated  that  day.  I  have  neither  seen  nor  heard  of 
her  since." 

A  long  silence  followed  this  bald  statement  of  the  case. 
Max  Eichardson  had  no  words  in  which  to  express  the 
pain  he  felt.  Brutus  arose,  and  rubbed  himself  against 
his  master's  legs,  as  if  dimly  aware  that  sympathy  of  some 
sort  was  required  of  him,  and  the  regular  beat  of  the 
sentry's  footsteps  asserted  itself  in  the  stillness. 

At  last  Eichardson  spoke.  "  Wonder  you  cared  about 
shaking  hands  with  me  again  after  that." 

Lenox  came  nearer,  and  took  him  by  the  shoulder. 


30  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  My  dear  good  Dick,"  he  said  quietly,  "  don't  talk  rub- 
bish ;  and  oblige  me  by  putting  the  whole  affair  out  of 
your  head.  It's  as  dead  as  a  door-nail.  Has  been  these 
five  years.  After  all,  you  were  simply  an  instrument — 
a  providential  instrument,"  he  added  grimly — "in  the 
general  scheme  of  things."  He  paused  for  a  moment ; 
then  returned  to  his  station  on  the  hearth-rug. 

"  You  say  she  has  been  painting  under  her  own  name. 
Has  she  been  doing  much  in  that  line  lately  ? " 

"Yes.  She  has  made  great  strides.  Her  Academy 
pictures  fetched  high  prices  last  year." 

"I  am  glad  of  that." 

The  words  were  spoken  with  such  grave  politeness  that 
Eichardson  looked  up  as  if  suspecting  sarcasm.  But  the 
other's  face  was  inscrutable.  "  Do  you  happen  to  know 
where  she  is  at  present  ? "  he  asked,  after  a  pause. 

"No.  I  believe  she  and  her  brother  travel  about 
Europe.  They  never  came  back  to  England.  That's 
what  made  my  cousins  feel  sure  there  was  something 
behind." 

"  Yes,  naturally."  Then,  with  an  abrupt  return  to  his 
usual  manner,  he  added,  "Now,  old  chap,  I'm  going  to 
send  you  packing,  and  get  to  work.  Deuced  glad  to  have 
you  back  again.  Hodson's  a  slacker  of  the  slackest.  We 
shan't  keep  him  up  here  much  longer,  I  fancy.  Border 
notions  of  work  don't  agree  with  his  delicate  digestion ! 
See  you  again  at  early  parade : — sharp  up  to  time." 

And  as  Kichardson's  footsteps  died  into  silence,  Eldred 
Lenox  went  slowly  back  to  the  writing-table. 

The  past  five  years  had  not  dealt  tenderly  with  this 
man  of  surface  hardness  and  repressed  sensibilities.  The 
black  hair  at  his  temples  was  too  freely  powdered  with 
silver,  the  lines  between  his  brows,  and  about  his  well- 
formed  mouth  and  jaw,  were  too  deeply  indented  for  a 
man  of  five-and-thirty.  The  whole  rugged  face  of  him 
was  only  saved  from  harshness  by  a  humorous  kindliness 
in  the  keen  blue  eyes,  that  had  measured  distance  and 
faced  death  with  an  equal  deliberation  ;  and  by  a  forehead 
whose  breadth  made  the  whole  face  vivid  with  intellect 
and  power.  He  looked  ten  years  older  than  the  inwardly 
exultant  bridegroom  who  had  stood  upon  that  sunlit  road 


AFTER    FIVE    YEARS.  31 

outside  Zermatt,  waiting  to  take  possession  of  the  woman 
he  had  won. 

The  attempt  to  relieve  bitterness  of  spirit  with  the 
stimulant  of  incessant  work,  and  the  questionable  sedative 
of  tobacco  strongly  tinctured  with  opium,  was  already 
producing  its  insidious,  inevitable  result — was,  in  truth, 
threatening  to  undermine  an  iron  constitution  while  fail- 
ing conspicuously  to  achieve  the  end  in  view. 

After  sitting  for  twenty  minutes  before  a  blank  sheet 
of  foolscap,  Lenox  gave  up  all  further  effort  at  mental 
concentration.  A  nostalgia  of  vast  untenanted  spaces 
was  upon  him, — of  those  great  glacier  regions  where  a 
man  could  stand  alone  with  God  and  the  universe,  could 
shake  himself  free  from  the  fret  of  personal  desire.  And 
he  had  agreed  to  forgo  this — the  one  real  rest  and 
refreshment  life  afforded  him, — to  "suffer  gladly"  the 
insistent  trivialities  of  hill-station  life,  merely,  forsooth, 
because  a  woman  had  asked  it  of  him.  He  anathema- 
tised himself  for  an  inconsistent  weak-minded  fool.  But 
he  had  no  intention  of  breaking  his  promise  to  Mrs 
Desmond. 

Since  work  was  out  of  the  question,  he  pushed  his 
chair  back  impatiently,  left  the  table,  and  flung  out  both 
arms  with  a  gesture  of  desperate  weariness.  Yet  sleep 
was  far  from  him,  and  he  knew  it ;  unless  he  chose  to 
induce  it  by  the  only  means  ready  to  his  hand. 

And  to-night  he  did  so  choose.  In  general  he  had 
steeled  himself  to  resist  the  temptation  to  smoke  no  more 
than  was  needed  to  quicken  and  clarify  thought.  But 
the  short  talk  with  Eichardson  had  set  all  his  over- 
strained nerves  on  edge.  His  sum  of  sleep  in  the  past 
week  did  not  amount  to  twenty-four  hours,  and  for  once 
in  a  way  oblivion  must  be  purchased  at  any  cost. 

Going  over  to  the  tall  tobacco-jar  that  supported  his 
library,  he  refilled  his  pouch  with  cool  deliberation, 
stretched  himself  out  upon  the  deck-lounge,  and  smoked 
pipe  after  pipe,  till  the  portion  of  the  drug  contained  in 
each  accumulated  to  a  perceptible  dose.  Then  the  great 
Dream  Compeller  took  pity  upon  him,  deadening  thought, 
feeling,  consciousness  itself,  till  the  pipe  fell  from  between 
his  fingers, — and  he  slept. 


32  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 


CHAPTEE    II. 

"  And,  at  each  turn,  it  seemed  as  though 
Fate  some  huge  net  round  both  did  throw 
To  stay  their  feet,  and  dim  their  sight." 

— W.  MORRIS. 

THREE  weeks  later,  on  a  diamond-bright  morning  of  early 
May,  Eldred  Lenox  was  in  the  saddle,  riding  at  a  foot's 
pace  along  a  strip  of  a  path  that  links  the  Strawberry 
Bank  Hotel  with  Dalhousie's  central  hill  Brutus  trotted 
soberly  to  heel,  while  Shaitan — a  black  Galloway,  half 
Biluch,  half  Arab — tossed  an  impatient  head,  sneezed 
several  times  in  succession,  and  generally  declared  his 
intention  of  taking  matters  into  his  own  hands,  so  soon  as 
he  should  reach  the  broader  expanse  of  Terah  Mall.  But 
Lenox,  impelled  by  an  inbred  desire  to  climb,  was  minded 
to  push  on  to  the  higher,  emptier  levels  of  Bakrota — the 
great  hill  that  towered,  formidable,  directly  ahead  of  him. 
For  the  chalet-like  dwellings  of  Dalhousie  are  scattered 
sparsely  over  three  hills,  Bakrota,  Terah,  Potrain ;  and 
the  summit  of  the  last  and  lowest  is  crowned  by  Straw- 
berry Bank  Hotel,  mainly  the  resort  of  captains  and 
subalterns  from  the  four  plains  stations  of  the  district, 
doing  their  two  months  of  signalling,  Garrison  Class,  or 
of  unadulterated  loafing,  as  the  case  may  be. 

Lenox  himself  came  under  none  of  these  headings.  The 
man  had  a  trick  of  refusing  to  be  classed  collectively, 
soldier  though  he  was  ;  a  trick  of  isolation,  inbred,  uncon- 
scious, the  outcome,  perhaps,  of  much  solitary  wandering, 
of  intimate  association  with  the  uttermost  hills.  It  was 
as  if  they  had  imparted  to  him  something  of  their  own 
ruggedness,  their  aloofness,  their  stoical  power  of  endur- 
ance. 

A  cheery  little  breeze  stirred  the  branches  of  horse- 
chestnuts  and  rhododendrons,  tossed  the  silver- backed 
foliage  of  the  ilex,  and  set  the  cedar  boughs  swaying  with 
slow,  dignified  indolence.  Hidden  within  their  depths  of 
shadow,  birds  and  monkeys  twittered  and  chattered  ;  and 
at  intervals  there  came  to  Lenox  the  peculiar  long-drawn 


AFTER    FIVE   YEARS.  33 

note  with  which  the  hill  villagers  call  to  one  another 
across  the  valleys.  An  infectious  spirit  of  jubilation 
pervaded  the  air.  The  sun  himself,  in  these  cheerful 
latitudes,  is  transformed  from  an  instrument  of  torture  to 
the  golden-locked  hero  of  Norse  and  Greek  legend ;  and 
with  every  step  of  the  ascent  Lenox  felt  the  blood  course 
more  swiftly  through  his  veins. 

Ilex  and  rhododendrons,  clustering  close  to  the  road's 
edge,  shut  off  the  vast  prospect  on  his  left ;  till,  at  an 
abrupt  turn  of  the  road,  they  gave  place  to  a  watercourse, 
descending  in  a  cataract  of  boulders  to  the  valley  below. 
Then  the  glorious  company  of  the  mountains  sprang 
suddenly  into  view,  lifting  scarred  heads  to  heaven,  and 
greeting  the  new  day  with  a  Te  Deum  audible  to  the 
spirit,  if  not  to  the  ear  itself.  To  the  spirit  of  Eldred 
Lenox  these  outward  symbols  of  the  eternal  verities,  fit 
emblems  of  the  stern  faith  in  which  he  had  been  reared, 
spoke  with  no  uncertain  voice  ;  and  their  message  was  a 
message  of  aspiration,  of  conquest,  of  the  iron  self- 
mastery  and  self-restraint  indispensable  to  both.  They 
reminded  him,  also,  that  life  held  many  good  gifts  in 
atonement  for  the  one  gift  denied ;  that  a  man  might  do 
worse  than  live  and  work  unhindered  by  the  volcanic 
forces  of  passion. 

The  past  five  years  had,  after  all,  been  years  of  fruitful 
service  to  the  great  country  he  loved;  the  three  letters 
after  his  name  assured  him  of  that.  And  there  remained 
much  more  to  be  done  in  the  same  direction ;  work  that 
would  make  unstinted  demands  upon  his  energy  and 
fortitude;  work  that  must,  in  due  time,  force  him  to 
forget. 

Arrived  on  the  Mall,  with  its  far-reaching  view  of 
valley  and  hill,  and  its  outcrop  of  glittering  granite,  a 
word  of  encouragement  set  Shaitan  into  a  smart  canter 
that  brought  them  speedily  to  the  half-way  corner,  whence 
a  densely  shadowed  road  climbs  upward  to  the  great 
forest  of  Kalatope.  The  glimpse  of  sun -splashed  path 
and  red  pine-stems  drew  Lenox  aside  from  the  open  Mall ; 
and  horse  and  rider  passed  into  the  stretch  of  scented 
coolness  at  a  brisk  trot.  The  path,  little  more  than  six 
feet  wide,  was  innocent  of  railing.  But  much  riding  in 

c 


34  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

the  Himalayas  hardens  the  nerves  to  these  tight-rope 
performances,  which  are  part  and  parcel  of  life  in  the 
hills. 

For  a  while  they  went  steadily  forward,  well  content ; 
till,  on  rounding  a  sharp  corner,  Shaitan  stopped  dead,  his 
forefeet  firmly  planted  on  the  roadway,  his  sensitive  ears 
thrust  forward ;  and  Lenox,  who  had  fallen  into  an 
absorbing  train  of  thought,  found  himself  confronted  by 
a  sufficiently  startling  reality. 

The  path  ahead  of  him  was  blocked  by  the  unwieldy 
forms  of  five  buffaloes,  in  charge  of  a  naked  brown  wisp 
of  humanity  four  feet  high,  armed  with  a  no  more  formid- 
able weapon  than  a  pine  branch  stripped  of  its  needles. 
But  the  crux  of  the  situation  lay  in  the  fact  that,  between 
the  fourth  and  fifth  buffaloes  an  Englishwoman,  in  a  brown 
habit,  mounted  on  a  restive  chestnut  pony,  was  in  immi- 
nent danger  of  slipping  off  the  road  to  certain  death 
among  the  rocks  and  boulders  below.  For  the  chestnut 
had  succeeded  in  wrenching  his  hindquarters  outward, 
his  heels  were  already  over  the  edge,  and  his  rider,  lean- 
ing well  forward,  was  applying  whip  and  spur  with  a 
coolness  and  vigour  that  could  not  fail  to  excite  the  man's 
admiration. 

It  was  a  matter  of  seconds  :  Lenox  could  not  stop  to 
calculate  possible  risks.  Buffaloes  and  herd-boy  scattered 
right  and  left  before  his  furious  onset.  A  swinging  blow 
from  his  hunting-crop  sent  two  of  the  bulky  beasts 
scrambling  up  the  inner  slope,  while  Brutus,  who  found 
the  situation  all  that  heart  of  dog  could  desire,  sent  a  third 
crashing  over  the  khud  to  the  accompaniment  of  shrill 
lamentations  from  the  terrified  child  in  charge. 

The  whole  thing  passed  in  a  flash;  the  pony,  by  a  frantic 
but  futile  effort  to  right  himself,  had  just  sent  a  shower 
of  loose  stones  rattling  from  under  his  hind  feet,  when 
Lenox,  dismounting,  gripped  the  cheek -strap  with  one 
hand,  the  other  being  occupied  with  his  own  reins. 

A  vigorous  forward  pull  landed  the  chestnut,  panting 
and  quivering,  with  all  four  feet  on  terra  firma.  But  the 
rider's  right  arm  had  fallen  limply  to  her  side,  and  Lenox, 
looking  up,  for  the  first  time,  into  a  face  deeply  shadowed 
by  a  wide-brimmed  helmet,  recognised  ...  his  wife. 


AFTER    FIVE   YEARS.  35 

Her  breath  was  still  coming  in  small,  quick  gasps ;  but 
there  was  no  shadow  of  fear  in  her  eyes;  no  lightest  tremor 
about  her  close-set  lips. 

"  Great  God !  You  !  "  he  ejaculated  under  his  breath, 
and  involuntarily  took  a  backward  step  away  from  her. 

At  the  shock  of  their  encountering  glances  her  cheeks 
flamed,  and  she  lowered  her  lids. 

"  I  suppose  I  may  say  thank  you  for  that,"  she  said,  and 
her  voice  shook  ever  so  little.  "  A  minute  later,  I  should 
have  gone  over." 

He  nodded,  keeping  his  teeth  close,  his  eyes  down  ;  and 
a  deadweight  of  silence  fell  between  them. 

Small  sounds  became  suddenly  self-assertive.  The 
rustle  of  squirrels  along  the  pine-stems,  the  monotonous 
music  of  the  cuckoo,  varied  by  a  charge  of  toy  pistol-shots 
when  an  inexperienced  monkey  alighted  on  a  dead  twig. 
Brutus,  standing  squarely  between  them,  eyed  each  in 
turn  with  critical  speculation,  his  ugly  head  cocked  very 
much  to  one  side.  He  instinctively  mistrusted  all  wearers 
of  petticoats,  and  had  found  the  buffalo  incident  very 
much  more  to  his  taste. 

At  length,  in  desperation,  Quita  made  a  movement  as 
if  to  pass  on.  But  Lenox  laid  a  peremptory  hand  upon 
her  bridle. 

"  Tell  me,  how  do  you  come  to  be  here  of  all  impossible 
places  on  earth  ? " 

His  voice  was  harder  than  he  knew,  and  a  slight  shadow 
passed  across  her  face. 

"Is  it  really  necessary  to  explain?"  she  asked, 
coldly. 

He  relinquished  her  bridle  at  that. 

"As  you  please,  of  course.  Only — it  is  a  little  awkward 
our  being  here  together ;  and  it  might  be  as  well  to  come 
to  some  sort  of  understanding  before  we  separate.  Are 
you  up  here  for  the  season  ? " 

"  Yes,  we  have  been  up  all  the  winter,  Michael  and  I, 
except  for  two  months  at  Lahore.  When  the  snow  melted 
we  moved  to  the  highest  cottage  on  Bakrota.  It  is  beautiful 
up  there.  We  came  out  here  eighteen  months  ago/'  she  went 
on  a  trifle  hurriedly,  grateful,  now  that  the  ice  was  broken, 
for  the  relief  of  commonplace  speech.  "I  had  heard  a 


36  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

good  deal  about  India,  you  know.     I  wanted  to  see  it  for 
myself,  and  if  possible  put  a  little  of  it  on  canvas." 

"  And  you  are  not  disappointed  ? " 

"  No,  indeed.     It  is  wonderful  beyond  words." 

They  had  themselves  well  in  hand  now.  Each  had 
given  the  other  a  false  impression  at  the  start,  and  when 
two  people  are  living  at  cross-purposes  it  is  easier  to  move 
mountains  than  to  remove  that  most  intangible  of  all 
barriers,  a  false  impression. 

"  And  are  you — up  for  the  season  ? "  Quita  added,  after 
a  pause,  with  a  natural  touch  of  hesitancy. 

"  No.  Two  months'  leave.  I  am  free,  therefore,  to  go 
elsewhere,  if  my  presence  here  is  in  the  least  degree  .  .  . 
annoying  to  you." 

"  Oh,  but  that  would  be  a  pity.  You  must  have  had  a 
special  reason  for  choosing  Dalhousie." 

"  Some  friends  of  mine  were  coming  up,  and  asked  me 
to  come  too.  But  they  will  quite  understand  if  I  say  I 
should  prefer  to  go  shooting  beyond  Chumba." 

"Don't  say  it,  though,  please.  I  would  really  rather 
you  did  not  put  yourself  out  in  the  smallest  degree  on  my 
account.  Besides,"  she  added,  achieving  a  rather  uncer- 
tain smile,  "  we  need  not  meet  often,  and  no  one — except 
Michael — will  have  any  notion  of  ...  the  truth." 

"  Of  course  not,"  he  agreed,  with  glacial  dignity.  "  I 
was  forgetting  that  you  had — discarded  my  name." 

Again  the  blood  flew  to  her  cheeks. 

"  It  seemed  the  simplest  way  to  avoid  possible  compli- 
cations, or  unnecessary  lies." 

"  And  you  flung  away — my  ring  also  ? " 

The  question  came  out  in  spite  of  himself,  for  he  had 
noted  her  ungloved  left  hand. 

"  No.  Only  I  could  not  very  well  wear  it — under  the 
circumstances." 

He  stood  aside  now  to  let  her  pass.  He  himself  then 
mounted,  and  followed  her  along  the  narrow  path,  raging 
against  the  irony  of  circumstance,  as  a  man  bites  upon  a 
sore  tooth. 

On  reaching  the  spaciousness  of  Bakrota  Mall,  he  had 
no  choice  but  to  ride  abreast  of  his  companion.  He  did 
so  without  remark,  and  since  Quita  lacked  courage  to  spur 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  37 

her  pony  to  a  canter,  they  continued  to  ride  thus  for  a 
time ;  each,  under  an  admirable  mask  of  composure,  pain- 
fully aware  of  the  other's  presence. 

Speech  seemed  only  likely  to  widen  the  gulf  between 
them,  and  at  all  times  Lenox  had  a  large  capacity  for  silence. 

Not  so  Quita.  The  last  ten  minutes  had  been  over- 
crowded with  conflicting  emotions;  her  husband's  mute 
proximity  got  upon  her  nerves,  and  a  setting  of  pine  and 
mountain  put  a  finishing  touch  to  an  already  intolerable 
situation.  She  turned  upon  him  at  length,  with  a  small 
gesture  of  defiance, — a  well-remembered  tilt  of  her  chin 
that  pierced  him  like  a  sword-thrust. 

"  Don't  feel  bound  to  escort  me,  please.  I  am  constantly 
out  alone.  You  may  have  a  long  way  to  go ;  and  we  need 
hardly  play  at  polite  conventionalities — you  and  I." 

He  glanced  at  her  keenly  for  a  second. 

"  Thanks ;  I  am  in  no  hurry.  But — if  you  would  pre- 
fer it  ? " 

"  I  think  it  would  be  less — uncomfortable  for  us  both," 
she  made  answer  desperately. 

"  In  that  case,  of  course  .  .  ."  He  gathered  up  his  reins, 
and  lifted  his  hat.  "  At  least  I  am  glad  to  have  been  of 
some  small  service  to  you,"  he  added,  quietly.  And  before 
her  brain  or  lips  could  formulate  an  answer,  he  had  cantered 
off  and  vanished  round  a  shoulder  of  the  hill. 


CHAPTEE  III. 

"  Flower  o'  the  clove, 
All  the  Latin  I  construe  is  '  Amo,  I  love  ' !  " 

— BBOWNING. 

QUITA  drew  rein  and  sat  motionless  for  several  seconds, 
looking  straight  before  her. 

"I  wonder  ...  I  wonder  very  much,"  she  mused, 
"exactly  what  one  may  infer  from  all  that.  Either  he 
has  superb  self-control,  or  I  have  been  wiped  off  the  slate 
altogether.  Most  probably  the  latter." 


38  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

Then  she  moved  forward  slowly,  in  a  state  of  mind  so 
complicated  that,  for  all  her  skill  in  self -analysis,  she 
could  not  unravel  her  own  sensations.  She  only  knew 
that  she  felt  jarred  through  and  through,  and  in  a  mood 
to  give  way  to  her  most  dare-devil  impulses.  But  happily 
for  her,  no  egregious  piece  of  folly  was  ready  to  hand  at 
the  moment. 

Her  appearance  in  India  was  itself  the  outcome  of  an 
impulse  generated  by  the  arrival  of  two  cheques,  whose 
united  figures  took  away  her  breath ;  and  confirmed  by 
the  fact  that  Michael's  relations  with  the  inevitable  woman 
of  the  moment  threatened  serious  complications — for  the 
woman.  For  Michael  himself  serious  complications 
seemed  out  of  all  question.  Frank  Pagan  though  he  was, 
he  lacked,  in  a  peculiar  degree,  the  needful  leavening  of 
common  clay.  Love,  as  he  knew  it,  was  not  inevitably 
based  on  passion.  It  was  his  imagination  rather  than  his 
heart  that  took  fire,  and  only  under  the  influence  of  a 
dominant  emotion  did  he  appear  to  be  capable  of  the 
highest  achievement.  Briefly,  he  was  in  love  with  Love, 
with  that  elixir  of  the  heart  that  stirs  the  pulses,  and 
quickens  inspiration.  The  object  loved  stood  second. 
But,  so  long  as  the  enchantment  held,  so  long  as  no  new 
impression  caught  and  whirled  him  in  another  direction, 
he  honestly  believed  her  to  be  supreme. 

Hence  complications,  many  and  embarrassing,  which 
went  far  to  interpret  Quita's  inconsequent  Sittings  from 
one  continental  town  to  another.  For,  although  the 
younger  by  eighteen  months,  she  was  many  years  older 
in  thought  and  character  than  her  irresponsible  brother ; 
and  in  all  matters  of  moment  she  took,  and  was  expected 
to  take,  the  lead. 

The  key  to  a  perplexing  character  may  often  be  found 
in  the  idiosyncrasies  of  its  nearest  and  dearest ;  and  this 
reversal  of  the  natural  order  of  things  explained  much  in 
Quita  that  appeared  difficile  and  contradictory  ;  explained 
also  her  instant  gravitation  to  Lenox,  in  whom  she  divined 
a  supply  of  moral  force,  and  the  masculine  spirit  of  pro- 
tection, both  strangely  undeveloped  in  the  brother  she  so 
devoutly  loved.  And  if  at  times  the  uncongenial  task  of 
conscience-keeper,  and  general  financier,  coupled  with  com- 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  39 

plexities,  arising  from  her  own  false  position,  had  proved 
something  of  a  strain  upon  her,  Michael  had  never  yet 
discovered  the  fact.  She  understood  and  shared  enough 
of  his  Pagan  spirit  to  accept  his  emotional  aids  to  self- 
expression  at  their  true  value.  Do  what  he  might,  she 
could  not  find  it  in  her  heart  to  be  angry  with  him  for 
long.  He  carried  his  fine  crop  of  failings  with  a  cheerful- 
ness and  assurance  so  engaging,  that  it  seemed  almost 
ungracious  to  be  aware  of  them. 

But  there  were  moments  when  the  woman  in  her 
rebelled,  even  to  remonstrance,  with  small  result ;  and 
when,  at  length,  the  arrival  of  two  cheques  coincided  with 
Michael's  announcement  that  a  certain  enamoured  Count- 
ess obviously  expected  him  to  free  her  from  the  tyranny 
of  an  unloved  husband,  Quita  had  laughingly  suggested 
India  as  an  inviting  means  of  escape  from  entanglements 
present  and  to  come. 

Half  a  night  of  meditation  had  sufficed  to  set  her  on 
the  rock  of  decision.  There  were  possibilities  about  India 
not  to  be  named,  even  to  her  own  heart.  There  were  also 
empty  spaces  where  white  women  would  be  scarce,  and 
where  Michael  must  learn  to  work  without  the  spur  of  a 
fictitious  stimulant. 

Before  the  week  was  out,  behold  them  ploughing 
through  the  Mediterranean,  leaving  the  misguided 
Countess  to  pacify  a  suspicious  husband.  A  summer  in 
Kashmir,  and  a  winter  in  a  deserted  Himalayan  station, 
had  confirmed  Quita  in  the  wisdom  of  their  flight;  and 
now  her  own  unnamed  possibility  had  been  sprung  upon 
her  so  suddenly,  so  strangely,  that  it  took  away  her  breath, 
and  left  her  as  yet  neither  glad  nor  sorry,  but  profoundly 
disturbed. 

Arrived  at  her  own  turning,  she  relieved  her  feelings  a 
little  by  setting  Yorick  at  a  canter  up  the  twisted  scrap 
of  a  path  that  climbed  to  a  wooden  doll's  house,  chris- 
tened by  a  poetical  Hindu  landlord,  the  "  Crow's  Nest." 
Perched  on  an  impossible -looking  slope  of  gravel  and 
granite,  eight  thousand  feet  above  the  Punjab,  it  seemed 
only  to  be  saved  from  falling  headlong  by  an  eight-foot 
ledge  of  earth,  which  Quita  spoke  of  proudly  as  her 
"  garden,"  and  which  actually  boasted  two  strips  of  border 


40  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

aglow  with  early  summer  flowers.  Here  she  found  her 
sais  squatting  on  his  heels;  and  springing  from  the 
saddle,  dismissed  Yorick  without  his  customary  lump  of 
sugar. 

On  the  steps  of  the  trellised  verandah  she  paused, 
nerving  herself  to  recount  her  astonishing  adventure  in 
the  right  tone  of  voice,  and  instinctively  her  brain  noted 
every  detail  of  the  view  outspread  before  her.  The  golden 
stillness  of  morning  rested  on  hill  and  valley  like 
a  benediction.  Green  cornfields,  white  watercourses, 
granite  promontories,  and  black  patches  of  forest — all 
were  bathed  in  warmth  and  light  without  languor.  The 
breath  of  the  snows  was  still  ice-cool,  and  exhilarating  as 
wine ;  its  freshness  penetrated  and  enhanced  by  the  faint 
sweet  scent  of  Banksia  roses,  that  clothed  the  rickety 
woodwork  in  a  fairy  garment  of  green  and  ivory-white. 
Each  least  sound  was  crystal  clear  in  the  rarefied  air ;  the 
quarrelling  of  two  sparrows,  the  high-pitched  chatter 
from  the  compound  behind  the  cottages,  the  crooning  of 
ring-doves  among  the  pines.  Butterflies,  like  detached 
flowers,  fluttered  in  and  out.  A  faint  breeze  stirred  the 
roses,  so  that  an  occasional  creamy  petal  fell  circling  to 
the  ground. 

But  for  the  first  time  Quita  Maurice  felt  out  of  tune 
with  it  all.  A  disturbing  element  had  thrust  itself  into 
her  life,  deranging  its  perspective,  altering  its  values. 
She  felt  badly  in  need  of  common  human  sympathy,  and 
the  exalted  calm  of  these  high  latitudes  irritated  rather 
than  soothed  her. 

With  an  impatient  sigh  she  turned  to  enter  the  house. 

The  glass  doors  of  the  centre  room  stood  open,  a  char- 
acteristic room,  half  drawing-room,  half  studio ;  furnished 
mainly  with  two  large  easels,  painting-stools,  and  cane 
chairs,  yet  bearing  in  every  detail  the  stamp  of  Quita's 
iridescent  personality.  A  pianette,  a  violin,  a  litter  of 
music,  and  back  numbers  of  the  '  Art  Journal '  occupied 
one  corner.  A  revolving  bookcase  showed  an  inviting 
array  of  books.  Her  own  canvas  was  hidden  by  draperies 
of  dull  gold  silk,  and  beside  it,  on  a  carved  stool,  sprays 
of  Banksia  roses  and  honeysuckle  soared  plumelike  from 
a  vase  of  beaten  bronze. 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  41 

Before  the  second  easel  Michael  stood,  with  his  back 
towards  her,  brush  and  palette  in  hand,  head  critically 
tilted,  his  velveteen  coat  sagging  a  little  from  rounded 
shoulders.  Absorbed  in  his  picture,  he  was  quite  uncon- 
scious of  her  presence.  This  irritated  her  also  to  an 
unjustifiable  extent.  Her  vanity  had  suffered  recent 
shock,  and  an  unreasoning  longing  possessed  her  to  be 
cared  for,  to  be  supremely  needed. 

"  Michel !  "  she  cried  imperatively  from  her  post  in  the 
doorway,  —  Michael  objected  strongly  to  the  harsher 
pronunciation  of  his  name;  and  the  two  seldom  spoke 
English  when  alone.  "Is  it  necessary  to  fire  a  salute 
before  you  will  deign  to  be  aware  that  one  has  come 
back?" 

At  that  he  turned  quickly  about,  and  treated  her  to  a 
burlesque  bow  of  apology. 

"  Mais  non,  chdrie  ...  a  thousand  pardons  !  But  it  is 
no  fault  of  mine  that  you  have  the  footfall  of  a  bird ! " 

She  laughed  in  spite  of  herself. 

"  Keep  those  sort  of  speeches  for  Miss  Mayhew.  She 
may  possibly  believe  them.  It  would  be  all  the  same  if 
I  had  the  footfall  of  an  elephant !  Nothing  short  of  siege- 
guns  would  distract  your  mind  from  that  picture.  It  has 
bewitched  you." 

"  Eh  lien !  When  it  is  complete  it  will  be  a  master- 
piece," he  assured  her  loftily. 

"  No  doubt !  But,  in  the  meanwhile,  it  may  interest 
you  to  know  that  except  for  a  genuine  miracle,  I  should 
not  be  here  at  all." 

"  Mon  Dieu  !    But  what  happened  ?     Tell  me." 

Flinging  aside  palette  and  brushes,  he  caught  her  hands 
in  his,  and  it  cost  her  an  effort  to  preserve  her  lightness 
of  tone. 

"Nothing  blood-curdling,  since  you  see  me  without 
bruise  or  scratch.  Only  Yorick  and  I  got  tangled  up 
with  a  herd  of  buffaloes  on  the  Kajiar  Koad.  In  his 
fright,  the  little  fool  slipped  half  over  the  khud,  and  if 
a  knight-errant  had  not  fallen  from  heaven,  in  the  nick  of 
time,  we  should  both  be  lying  somewhere  in  the  valley 
by  now,  '  spoiling  a  patch  of  Indian  corn ' ! " 

Maurice  frowned.     "  Don't  be  gruesome,  Quita." 


42  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  Sorry.  I  didn't  mean  to  be.  I  was  only  quoting  that 
uncannily  clever  Kipling  boy  at  Lahore.  Yorick  and  I 
were  slithering  over,  just  like  the  loathly  Tertium  Quid  on 
the  Mushobra  Koad ;  and  there  is  plenty  of  Indian  corn  in 
the  valley !  I  thought  of  it,  all  in  a  flash,  and  it  wasn't 
enlivening,  I  assure  you." 

"  That  is  enough,"  Maurice  protested  hastily.  Tragedy 
oppressed  him  to  the  verge  of  annoyance.  "  But  tell  me 
— who  was  the  knight-errant,  that  I  may  at  least  shake 
hands  with  him." 

The  blood  tingled  in  Quita's  cheeks,  and  she  went 
quickly  forward  into  the  room. 

"  I  doubt  if  you  will  want  to  do  that  when  you  know  his 
name,"  she  said.  "  It  was — Captain  Lenox." 

"  Nom  de  Dieu  !  That  fellow ! "  Michael  flung  out  his 
hands  with  a  dramatic  gesture  of  despair.  "  What  is  he 
doing  here,  par  exemple,  instead  of  poking  about  among  his 
glaciers?  Now  I  suppose  he  will  not  rest  till  he  has 
taken  you  from  me  again." 

The  frank  selfishness  of  the  man's  first  thought  was  so 
characteristic  that  Quita  smiled.  But  her  smile  had  an 
edge  to  it. 

"  Set  your  mind  at  rest  on  that  point,"  she  said.  "  He 
is  no  more  anxious  to  claim — his  property,  than  I  am  to 
be  claimed." 

"  Curse  him  !    Did  he  dare  to  tell  you  so  ?  " 

Quita  lifted  her  head ;  a  spark  of  anger  flashed  in  her 
eyes. 

"  You  seem  to  forget  that  he  is  a  gentleman,  and — my 
husband."  Then,  recovering  herself,  she  added  more 
gently,  "  There  are  ways  and  ways  of  telling  things,  mon 
cher,  and  since  I  have  relieved  your  anxiety,  we  need  not 
mention  him  again.  The  subject  is  distasteful  to  me. 
Now,  I  want  to  see  how  you  have  got  on  with  the  master- 
piece ! " 

She  went  to  the  easel ;  and  Maurice,  following,  stood 
at  her  elbow  anticipating  the  sweet  savour  of  praise.  For 
the  picture  was  a  notable  bit  of  work,  daringly  simple  in 
colouring  and  design,  yet  arresting,  convincing,  alive. 

It  represented  a  young  girl,  with  the  promise  of  woman- 
hood on  her  gravely  sweet  lips,  and  in  the  depths  of  her 


AFTER    FIVE   YEARS.  43 

eyes,  half-sitting  upon  the  crossed  rails  of  the  verandah. 
An  ivory-white  dress  of  Indian  silk  fell  in  shimmering 
folds  to  her  feet.  A  dawn  of  clear  amber  made  a  tender 
background  to  the  dull  gold  of  her  hair.  Trailing  sprays 
of  the  rose  that  ran  riot  over  the  house  drooped  towards 
her ;  and  a  pine  branch,  striking  in  abruptly,  made  an 
effective  splash  of  shadow  in  an  atmosphere  palpitating 
with  the  promise  of  fuller  light.  The  only  intense  bit  of 
colour  in  the  picture  was  the  violet  blue  of  Elsie  May- 
he  w's  eyes — eyes  that  looked  into  you  and  through  you 
to  some  dream-world  unsullied  by  the  disconcerting  reali- 
ties of  life,  which  seemed  only  awaiting  the  given  moment 
to  rush  in  and  dispel  the  dream.  For,  as  the  sky  gave 
promise  of  fuller  light,  so  did  the  girl's  spirit  seem  hover- 
ing on  the  verge  of  fuller  knowledge. 

Such  at  least  was  Quita's  thought,  as  she  stood  silently 
appraising  her  brother's  work ;  and  it  brought  a  contraction 
to  her  throat,  a  stinging  sensation  to  her  eyeballs. 

"  I  congratulate  you,  Michel,"  said  she  softly.  "  You 
have  never  done  anything  to  equal  that.  It  is  more  than 
a  portrait.  It  is  an  interpretation,  or  will  be,  when  it  is 
complete.  Her  hopeless  little  '  Button  Quail '  of  a  mother 
won't  understand  it  in  the  least,  but  Colonel  Mayhew  will. 
I  wonder  if  you  know  yourself  how  much  you  have  put 
into  it?" 

"  I  know  that  I  have  put  some  superlative  workmanship 
into  it,"  he  answered,  looking  upon  the  creation  of  his 
hand  and  brains  with  critical  grey-green  eyes,  curiously 
out  of  keeping  with  an  ill-formed  and  unrestrained  mouth. 

"Indeed  you  have.  The  thing  is  full  of  atmosphere, 
and  your  flesh  tints  are  worthy  of  Perugino.  You  mean 
to  give  it  to  her  ? " 

"  Cela  va  sans  dire.  She  wants  it  as  a  present  for  her 
father." 

"  Why  not  hang  it  first,  at  Home  ? " 

"  Afterwards,  perhaps.     If  she  permits." 

"  It  is  a  big  gift,  Michel.  It  would  fetch  a  high  price ; 
and  we  need  money." 

Michael  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  all  an  artist's  scorn 
of  "  the  common  drudge." 

"  Since   when  have  you   turned  commercialist,  petite 


44  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

soeur  ?  If  it  is  a  question  of  starving,  I  can  always  paint 
another.  I  do  not  sell  this  one,  wild,  tout.  If  it  were 
only  mine,  I  would  have  five  lines  of  Swinburne  under 
it  for  title.  They  express  her  to  perfection.  Listen — 

'  Her  flower-soft  lips  were  meek  and  passionate, 
For  love  upon  them  like  a  shadow  sat, 
Patient,  a  foreseen  vision  of  sweet  things, 
A  dream  with  eyes  fast  shut  and  plumeless  wings, 
That  knows  not  what  man's  love  or  life  shall  be.' " 

On  the  last  line  his  voice  deepened  to  an  impassioned 
tone  that  brought  an  anxious  crease  to  Quita's  forehead. 

"I  wonder  which  you  are  most  in  love  with,"  she  said 
on  a  forced  note  of  lightness.  "  The  girl  herself,  or  your 
picture  of  her  ?  Do  you  ever  treat  her  to  such  rhapsodies 
in  the  flesh  ?  They  must  be  a  little  embarrassing  for  a 
child  of  twenty ! " 

"  Your  '  child  of  twenty '  is  already  very  much  a  woman, 
and  I  have  the  right  to  say  to  her  what  I  please." 

"  Not  altogether,  mon  ami — unless " 

But  Michael  dismissed  criticism  as  serenely  as  he  dis- 
missed consequences.  The  episode  of  the  Countess  was  as 
though  it  had  never  been. 

"  I  have  no  concern  with  '  unless.'  Such  uncomfortable 
words  are  wiped  out  of  my  vocabulary.  They  affect  me 
like  a  false  note  in  music." 

Quita  laughed.  "  No  one  knows  that  better  than  I  do ! 
But  speaking  simply  as  a  woman,  I  know  also  that  the 
man  who  opens  our  eyes  to  the  passionate  side  of  things 
involves  himself  in  a  big  moral  responsibility.  And  even 
you  cannot  shelve  the  moralities  altogether." 

"  Cela  depend.  If  the  moralities  hamper  one's  art,  the 
shelf  is  the  best  place  for  them  in  my  opinion." 

His  sister  did  not  answer  at  once.  Michael's  confession 
of  faith  was  not  a  matter  to  be  lightly  dismissed  ;  for  the 
simple  reason  that  he  lived  up  to  it  in  so  far  as  human 
inconsistency  will  allow  any  man  to  live  up  to  his  faith, 
however  ignoble. 

"  I  sometimes  wonder  whether  one's  art  really  does  gain 
by  that  form  of  freedom,"  she  said  thoughtfully,  "  or  only 
— one's  consuming  egotism." 


AFTER   FIVE    YEARS.  45 

But  the  suggestion  was  rank  heresy,  and  Michael  would 
have  none  of  it. 

"  Keally,  Quita,  you  are  as  enlivening  as  a  Lenten 
service !  Upon  my  soul,  I'd  sooner  you  turned  vegetarian 
than  developed  a  conscience !  But  believe  me,  I  am 
devoted  to  Miss  Mayhew.  She  is  enchanting.  A  wild 
rose,  half-open,  with  the  dew  still  on  her  petals.  Meta- 
phorically, I  am  at  her  feet.  Does  that  satisfy  you,  ma 
belle?" 

"  It  might,  if  I  had  not  heard  a  good  deal  of  it  before. 
You  are  chronically  devoted  to  one  or  other  of  us,  my 
beloved  Pagan  !  That's  the  root  of  the  difficulty." 

In  atonement  for  directness  of  speech,  she  laid  hands 
upon  his  shoulders,  and  smiled  very  tenderly  into  his 
face. 

"  I  am  chronically  devoted  to  you,  cceur  de,  mon  cceur," 
he  declared  in  all  sincerity.  "  That  is  the  only  form  of  it 
I  have  yet  known." 

His  reward  was  a  butterfly  kiss  between  the  eyebrows. 

"  Out  of  your  own  mouth  you  stand  condemned  !  It  is 
quite  charming  for  me  ;  and  for  the  rest — one  accepts  the 
unavoidable!  But  in  sober  prosaic  truth,  Michel,  Elsie 
Mayhew  is  a  great  deal  too  good  for  you ;  and  that  nice 
Engineer  boy,  Mr  Malcolm,  is  desperately  in  earnest 
about  her.  I  have  seen  his  whole  heart  in  his  eyes  when 
he  looks  at  her " 

"Mais,  ma  chdre,  what  a  serious  derangement  of  his 
organism ! "  Michael  broke  in  with  irreverent  laughter. 
"  When  all's  said,  the  heart  is  a  practical  machine — even 
the  heart  of  a  lover,  and  a  little  of  it  must  have  been  left 
below  for  pumping  purposes  ! " 

She  stamped  her  foot  in  helpless  irritation. 

"  Michel,  how  exasperating  you  are  !  Can't  you  see 
that  I  am  in  earnest?" 

"  Like  my  incomparable  rival  ? "  he  queried  unabashed. 
"  Poor  devil !  I  wish  him  no  harm.  Is  it  my  fault,  after 
all,  if  the  lady  prefers  a  man  who  is  not  cut  out  on  a 
pattern,  and  filed  for  reference  at  the  War  Office  ?  He  is 
immaculate,  ce  cher  Malcolm,  from  his  parting  to  the  toes 
of  his  boots.  And,  ma  foi,  he  is  clean — like  all  that 
redoubtable  army  of  British  officers — aggressively  clean, 


46  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

inside  and  out,  which  one  cannot  always  say  with  truth  ! 
But  he  has  no  finesse,  no  savoir  faire  where  women  are 
concerned.  If  he  is  in  earnest  let  him  try  weapons  more 
compelling  than  his  beaiix  yeux.  A  man  was  not  given 
slip  and  a  pair  of  hands  for  eating  and  fighting  merely ; 
and  if  he  cannot  turn  them  to  good  account,  he  deserves 
the  fate  that  will  assuredly  be  his." 

Quita's  sigh,  as  she  turned  impatiently  away,  may  have 
arisen  from  a  passing  thought  of  that  other,  who  had  also 
been  remiss  in  putting  lips  and  hands  to  their  legitimate 
use,  and  had  reaped  disaster  accordingly.  She  took  off 
her  helmet,  as  if  suddenly  aware  of  its  weight,  and  tossed 
it  into  a  chair. 

"  Is  Miss  May  hew  giving  you  another  sitting  after  our 
sunrise  picnic,  on  Dynkund,  to-morrow  ? "  she  asked  in  a 
changed  voice. 

"Yes,  and  I  intend  that  she  shall  stay  on  for  tiffin 
also." 

"  Then  I  will  persuade  Major  Garth  to  follow  suit,  so 
that  we  may  be  a  parti  carrd.  And  now,  as  it's  more  than 
half-past  breakfast-time,  we  might  begin  to  think  about 
sitting  down !  I  believe  Major  Garth  is  riding  up  this 
morning  with  some  books  I  lent  him,  and  I  must  get 
forward  a  little  with  my  picture  before  he  comes." 

"His  office  hours  seem  to  have  become  a  negligible 
quantity  lately,"  Maurice  remarked  casually,  his  eyes  on 
Elsie's  face. 

"  Yes,  I  told  him  so  a  few  days  ago,  apparently  without 
much  effect.  Major  Garth  is  one  of  those  men  who  com- 
bine a  maximum  of  pleasure  and  a  minimum  of  work  with 
the  capacity  for  securing  good  appointments,  which  is 
quite  an  achievement — of  its  kind.  I  suppose  I  must 
gently  point  out  to  him  that  now  the  station  is  waking 
up  it  would  be  well  to  consider  the  proprieties  a  little 
more  than  we  have  done  so  far ;  or  the  '  Button  Quail ' 
will  be  forbidding  Elsie  the  house.  She  is  volubly  dis- 
approving already,  denounces  him  as  a  '  dangerous  man  ' 
.  .  .  delectable  adjective!  But  the  cackle  of  Quails  is 
nothing  to  me.  So  long  as  the  man  behaves  himself,  and 
amuses  me,  I  shall  continue  to  see  just  as  much  of  him  as 
I  think  fit." 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  47 

Major  Garth,  it  may  he  mentioned  in  passing,  had 
lately  secured  the  coveted  post  of  Station  Staff  Officer. 
He  also  had  spent  the  winter  months  in  Dalhousie ;  and 
he  could  by  no  means  be  reckoned  among  the  men  who 
fail  with  women  through  undue  fastidiousness  in  regard 
to  ways  and  means. 


CHAPTEE   IV. 

"  A  bird  of  the  air  shall  carry  the  voice,  and  that  which  hath  wings 
shall  tell  the  matter." — Eccles. 

"TiEED  already?  Nonsense!  The  air  at  this  height  is 
pure  elixir  vitse.  It  gives  one  a  foretaste  of  the  joy  of 
being  disembodied  !  I  feel  five  years  younger  since  I  left 
the  bungalow." 

"  And  I,  on  the  other  hand,  feel  uncomfortably  aware 
that  I  shall  never  see  the  forty-third  milestone  again ! " 
And,  seating  himself  deliberately  on  the  trunk  of  a  fallen 
deodar,  James  Garth  looked  up  at  his  companion,  where 
she  stood  above  him  on  a  rough-hewn  block  of  granite, 
her  alpenstock  held  high  like  a  shepherd's  crook,  the 
slender,  shapely  form  of  her  outlined  upon  a  sky  already 
athrill  with  the  foreknowledge  of  dawn. 

Standing  thus,  lightly  poised,  impatient  of  delay,  slim 
and  upright  as  a  young  birch-tree,  a  cluster  of  roses  at  her 
waist,  her  expressive  face  shadowed  by  the  wide-brimmed 
helmet,  she  appeared  triumphantly,  girlishly  young,  for  all 
her  eight-and-twenty  years.  Her  cheeks  glowed;  irre- 
pressible animation  sparkled  in  her  eyes.  The  shock  and 
jar  of  twenty-four  hours  ago  seemed  forgotten,  as  though 
they  had  never  been,  for  Quita  Maurice  was  blessed  with 
the  happy  faculty  of  living  vividly  and  exclusively  in  the 
present,  and  the  exhilaration  of  ascent,  the  prospect  of 
watching  the  world's  awakening  from  a  pine -crowned 
pinnacle,  nine  thousand  feet  up,  were,  for  the  moment, 
all-sufficing. 


48  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

James  Garth,  in  his  upward  glance,  appraised  every 
detail  of  her  dress  and  person ;  savoured  to  the  full  her 
very  individual — if,  at  times,  thorn-set — charm.  He  was  a 
connoisseur  of  woman — of  their  moods,  their  minor  vanities, 
their  methods  of  defence  and  attack — this  man  whose 
career  had  been  mainly  remarkable  for  a  succession  of 
sentimental  friendship,  innocuous  and  otherwise. 

During  the  past  six  months  he  had  spent  an  infinite 
deal  of  leisure  in  a  pastime  whose  every  move  and  counter- 
move  he  knew  by  heart,  and  for  the  first  time  in  eighteen 
years  he  had  found  himself  out  of  his  reckoning. 

An  element  little  known  to  him  had  upset  the  balance 
of  power.  He  was  beginning  to  be  aware  that,  for  all  his 
unquenchable  self-assurance,  he  had  never  for  one  moment 
felt  sure  of  this  woman,  whose  companionship  was  so 
accessible,  and  whose  inner  self  stood  always  just  out  of 
reach,  airy,  impregnable,  and  by  a  natural  sequence,  the 
more  entirely  desirable.  It  had  taken  Garth  some  months 
to  realise  the  truth :  and  on  this  morning  of  golden  promise 
he  decided  that  Quita  Maurice  must  be  made  to  realise 
it  also. 

Quita  herself,  meeting  the  eloquence  of  his  eyes  with 
that  frank  look  of  hers  which  had  been  largely  responsible 
for  the  unprecedented  turn  of  affairs,  was  vainly  trying  to 
repress  a  mischievous  enjoyment  of  the  fact  that  her 
companion  was  patently  out  of  his  element;  that  his 
drawing-room  attitudes  and  demeanour  struck  an  almost 
ludicrous  note  of  discord  with  the  untamed  majesty  of  his 
surroundings. 

Face,  figure,  and  point-device  attire,  culminating  in  a 
buttonhole  of  freshly  picked  violets,  stamped  him  as  a  man 
mentally  and  physically  addicted  to  the  levels  of  life ;  a 
soldier  of  carpet  conquests  and  ball-room  achievements. 
A  brow  not  ill-formed,  and  a  bold  pair  of  eyes,  more  green 
than  brown,  suggested  some  measure  of  cultivated  intelli- 
gence, without  which  Quita  could  not  have  endured  his 
companionship  for  many  hours  together.  But  the  pro- 
portions of  his  thick-set  figure,  and  a  certain  amplitude  of 
chin  and  jaw,  bewrayed  him ;  classed  him  indubitably 
with  the  type  for  whom  comfort  and  leisure  are  the  first 
and  last  words  of  life.  The  fact  that  he  had  ascended  a 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  49 

matter  of  fifteen  hundred  feet  before  daybreak,  and  that 
with  no  more  than  the  mildest  sense  of  martyrdom,  was 
proof  conclusive  that  the  balance  of  power  had  been  very 
completely  upset;  and  it  is  quite  in  keeping  with  the 
delicate  irony  of  things  that  the  one  woman  who  had 
succeeded  in  upsetting  it  was,  at  that  moment,  dissecting 
him  with  the  merciless  accuracy  of  the  artist. 

"  Poor  man  ! "  she  remarked,  sympathetically.  "  I'm 
afraid  I  have  been  treating  you  rather  mercilessly;  and 
you  don't  look  particularly  happy  sitting  on  that  deodar, 
either !  I  suppose  I  may  consider  it  something  of  a 
triumph  to  have  dragged  a  high  priest  of  the  arm-chair 
unprotesting  up  to  the  heights  at  this  unearthly  hour  of 
the  morning  ? " 

"  A  triumph  exclusively  your  own,"  he  answered,  with 
lingering  emphasis.  "  No  other  woman  in  the  world  could 
have  achieved  as  much." 

Quita  glanced  at  him  quizzically. 

"I  honestly  wonder,"  she  said  slowly,  "if  you  could 
reckon  up  at  random  how  many  times  you  have  said  that 
sort  of  thing  before." 

Garth  reddened  visibly ;  less  at  the  justice  of  the  retort 
than  at  the  humiliation  of  being  put  out  of  countenance 
by  a  woman  from  whom  he  desired  no  less  a  gift  than  the 
gift  of  herself. 

"Well,  I  never  meant  it  fair  and  square  before,"  he 
declared  stoutly.  Whereat,  to  his  consternation,  she 
laughed  outright. 

"  You  seem  to  have  a  high  opinion  of  my  powers  of 
credulity !  That  is  too  big  a  compliment  for  me  to  digest 
without  salt !  But  I  think  we  have  talked  nonsense 
enough  for  one  while,  and  it's  growing  lighter  every 
minute.  Are  you  coming  on  ?  Or  would  you  sooner  sit 
there  in  peace  while  I  push  up  to  the  top  ? " 

The  suggestion  brought  him  to  his  feet. 

"  No,  by  no  means.  When  I  set  out  to  do  a  thing,  I  go 
through  with  it." 

"  Eally  your  forces,  then,  for  one  more  spurt  of  climbing. 
Time  is  precious.  Can  you  really  manage  this  formidable 
boulder,  or  would  you  like  a  hand  up  ? " 

She  laughingly  flung  out  her  free  left  hand ;  and  the 

D 


50  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

mockery  in  her  clear  voice  fired  the  man  to  make  good 
his  opportunity.  He  took  prompt  possession  of  the 
proffered  hand,  crushing  it  in  his  with  unnecessary  force, 
but  made  no  attempt  to  scale  the  rock ;  while  she,  instantly 
perceiving  his  manoeuvre,  sprang  down  to  his  side  and 
freed  herself  with  imperious  decision.  Then  she  turned 
upon  him,  her  head  held  high,  a  spark  of  genuine  scorn  in 
her  eyes ;  and  he  realised  that  he  was  dealing  with  no  mere 
coquette,  whose  elusiveness  might  be  taken  as  an  inverted 
form  of  encouragement,  but  with  a  woman  of  character 
and  spirit. 

"Major  Garth,"  she  said  in  a  tone  of  quietness  more 
cutting  than  anger,  "  when  I  pay  a  man  the  compliment 
of  going  out  alone  with  him,  I  take  it  for  granted  that  he 
is  in  the  habit  of  behaving  like  a  gentleman.  I  should  be 
sorry  to  find  myself  mistaken  in  your  case." 

Without  giving  him  time  to  answer,  she  leapt  lightly 
on  to  her  deserted  rock,  leaving  him  to  follow,  if  he  chose. 

And  he  did  choose.  For  her  scorn,  while  it  stung  his 
vanity  to  the  quick,  fired  his  lukewarm  blood  with  a  lust 
of  conquest  far  removed  from  his  usual  cool-headed  assur- 
ance at  the  critical  moment.  He  seemed  destined  to  ex- 
perience more  than  one  new  sensation  this  morning ;  and 
new  sensations  rarely  came  amiss  to  this  epicure  of  the 
emotions. 

Being  quite  incapable  of  emulating  his  companion's 
chamois  method  of  cutting  corners,  and  striking  out  a 
direct  line  for  the  summit,  he  did  not  succeed  in  coming 
up  with  her  till  the  arduous  feat  was  accomplished, — the 
Pisgah  height  attained.  Here  he  found  her  established 
on  a  slab  of  granite,  hands  loosely  clasped  over  her  knee, 
helmet  tilted  a  little  backward,  forming  a  halo  round  her 
head  and  face.  He  arrived  in  a  very  unheroic  state  of 
breathlessness,  and  she  greeted  him  with  a  frankly  for- 
giving smile. 

"That  last  bit  came  rather  hard  on  you,  I'm  afraid. 
But  surely  all  this  makes  ample  amends." 

She  included  in  a  wide  sweep  of  her  arm  the  superb 
panorama  of  hill  and  valley  and  far-stretching  plain,  robed 
in  a  haze  of  its  own  fierce  breath,  through  which  a  silver 
network  of  rivers  could  be  faintly  discerned  in  the  crescent 


AFTER    FIVE   YEARS.  51 

light.  Uprising  from  this  blue  interminable  distance,  the 
first  crumplings  of  the  foothills  showed  like  purple  velvet, 
and  from  these  again  the  giant  Himalayas — the  "  home  of 
the  greater  gods" — sprang  aloft,  in  a  medley  of  lovely 
lines  and  hues,  till  they  reached  the  uttermost  north 
where  the  hoar  head  of  Nanga  Parbat  soared  twenty -five 
thousand  feet  into  the  blue. 

Quita  motioned  her  companion  to  another  rock,  a  little 
distance  behind  her  own. 

"Sit  down  there,  and  recover  your  lost  breath,"  she 
commanded,  gently.  "I  would  rather  not  talk  for  the 
present,  if  you  don't  mind.  It  would  jar  somehow.  I 
daresay  you  understand  what  I  mean." 

He  was  many  leagues  removed  from  understanding :  but 
he  obeyed  in  silence,  wondering  at  himself,  no  less  than  at 
her.  And  straightway  Quita  forgot  all  about  him,  in  the 
mere  rapture  of  looking,  and  of  feeling  in  every  fibre  the 
incommunicable  thrill  of  dawn. 

A  passionate  nobility,  freedom,  and  power  breathed  from 
the  wide  scene.  Already  a  pearly  glimmer  pulsed  along 
the  east ;  already  the  mountains  were  awake  and  aware. 
Peak  beyond  peak,  range  beyond  range,  a  shadowy  pageant 
of  purple  and  grey,  they  swept  upwards  to  the  far  horizon, 
where  the  still  wonder  of  the  snows  shone  pale  and  pure 
against  the  dovelike  tones  of  the  sky.  Away  across  the 
valley,  where  night  still  brooded,  Kalatope  ridge,  serrated 
and  majestic  of  outline,  made  a  massive  incident  of  shadow 
amid  the  tenderer  tints  around.  The  great  hushed  world 
seemed  holding  its  breath  in  expectation  of  a  miracle — the 
unconsidered  miracle  of  dawn. 

A  Himalayan  dawn  is  brief,  as  it  is  beautiful.  One 
after  one,  the  snow-peaks  passed  from  the  pallor  of  death 
to  the  glow  of  life.  Then,  sudden  as  an  inspiration,  the 
full  splendour  of  morning  broke,  sublime  as  the  eternity 
from  which  it  came.  Eapier-like  shafts  of  light  pierced 
the  purple  lengths  of  shadows  that  engulfed  the  valley. 
Threading  their  way  through  fir  and  deodar  and  pine, 
they  flung  all  their  radiant  length  across  a  rock-studded 
carpet  of  fir-needles  and  moss,  and  rested,  like  a  caress, 
upon  Quita's  face  and  figure. 

At  last,  with  long  breath  of  satisfaction,  she  forced  her 


52  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

sun-dazzled  eyes  and  mind  back  to  earth;  only  to  discover 
that  Garth  had  risen  and  was  standing  at  her  side.  The 
man  had  seen  and  studied  her  in  many  moods.  But  never 
in  one  so  exalted,  so  self-forgetful,  as  the  present ;  and  to 
the  varied  new  experiences  of  the  morning  was  added  a 
wholesome  sense  of  his  own  unworthiness  to  lay  a  hand 
upon  her.  In  that  illumined  moment  he  was  vouchsafed 
a  glimpse  into  the  temple  of  Love ;  a  temple  he  had  dese- 
crated and  defiled  time  and  again ;  whose  holy  of  holies 
he  had  never  entered,  nor  ever  could. 

"  Does  it  really  mean  as  much  as  all  that  to  you  ? " 
he  asked,  still  watching  her,  with  unusual  concentra- 
tion. 

She  nodded,  and  a  soft  light  gleamed  in  her  eyes. 
"  Yes — as  much  as  that,  and  more — infinitely  more.  One's 
cramped  mind  and  heart  seem  to  need  expanding  to  take 
it  all  in." 

Garth's  smile  lacked  its  habitual  touch  of  cynicism. 

"  I  am  afraid  even  sunrise  on  Dynkund  in  your  company 
has  no  power  to  lift  me  to  such  flights  of  ecstasy." 

"  I  never  supposed  it  had,  you  poor  fellow !  I  wouldn't 
change  souls  with  you  for  half  a  kingdom.  Nearly  every 
day  of  my  life  I  thank  the  goodness  and  the  grace  that 
dowered  me  with  the  spirit  of  an  artist.  Think  what  a 
heritage  it  is  to  be  eternally  interested  in  a  world  full  of 
people  who  seem  to  be  eternally  bored  ! " 

"  I  suppose  you  include  me  in  that  noble  army  of 
martyrs  ? " 

"  Decidedly.     It  is  one  of  your  worst  faults." 

"  At  least  I  never  commit  it  in  your  presence." 

She  laughed,  and  lifted  her  shoulders. 

"  At  least  you  know  how  to  flatter  a  woman  !  But,  for 
goodness'  sake,  don't  let's  talk  trivialities  in  the  face  of 
these  stupendous  mountains." 

"  And  why  not  ?  In  my  opinion,  the  trivialities  of  a 
human  being  are  worth  more  than  the  grandeur  of  a 
mountain,  any  day.  But,  seriously,  Miss  Maurice — if  you 
can  be  serious  with  me  for  five  minutes — does  all  this, 
and  the  Art  in  which  you  live  and  breathe,  so  satisfy  you 
that  you  feel  no  need  for  the  far  better  things  a  man 
might  have  to  offer  you?" 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  53 

She  frowned,  and  looked  with  sudden  intentness  at  a 
distant  object  in  the  valley. 

"  Yes — seriously — it  does.  What  is  more,  it  seems  to 
me  that  most  men  set  too  high  a  value  on  what  they  have 
to  offer  a  woman,  and  that  a  good  many  of  us  are  better 
off  without  it." 

Garth  set  his  teeth,  and  did  not  answer  at  once.  That 
his  first  genuine  attempt  at  a  proposal  of  marriage  should 
be  thus  cavalierly  nipped  in  the  bud  was  disconcerting,  to 
say  the  least  of  it. 

"But  not  you — of  all  women,"  he  protested,  incredu- 
lously. "  Are  you  quite  sure  you  understand  what  I  mean  ? 
Won't  you  give  me  a  chance  to  explain ? " 

Her  low  laughter  maddened  him. 

"  Oh,  no — please  have  mercy  on  me !  Explanations  are 
the  root  of  all  evil !  If  only  people  had  not  such  a  passion 
for  explaining  themselves,  there  would  be  fifty  per  cent 
fewer  misunderstandings  in  the  world.  Don't  you  know 
the  delightful  story  of  a  zealous  mother  reading  the  Bible 
to  her  boy,  and  explaining  profusely  to  bring  it  within 
the  scope  of  his  small  mind,  and  when  she  asked  him, 
anxiously,  'Are  you  quite  sure  you  understand  it  all, 
darling?'  he  answered,  with  the  heavenly  frankness  of 
childhood,  'Yes,  beautifully,  mummy — except  when  you 
explain.'  That's  my  feeling  exactly ;  so  we'll  skip  the 
explanations,  if  you  don't  mind." 

He  stifled  an  oath,  and  flung  his  half -smoked  cigar 
down  the  khud. 

"  You're  enough  to  drive  a  sane  man  distracted ! "  he 
declared  hotly,  and  was  not  a  little  surprised  at  his  own 
vehemence. 

"No,  no!  That's  exaggeration,  I  assure  you.  The 
strong  wine  of  the  morning  has  got  into  your  head. 
Do  be  reasonable  now,  and  keep  personalities  at  arm's 
length.  I  detest  them." 

He  moved  away  for  a  space ;  then,  turning  on  his  heel, 
came  back  again. 

"  At  least  you  don't  object  to  my  companionship  ? "  he 
said,  ignoring  her  request. 

"  Of  course  not,  so  long  as  it  amuses  you  to  bestow  it 
upon  me." 


54  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  Amuses  me !  God  in  heaven,  what  makes  you  so 
hopelessly  detached?" 

"  Some  radical  defect  in  me,  I  suppose.  The  Pagan 
strain,  perhaps,  that  comes  out  so  strong  in  Michael.  I 
believe  I  am  incapable  of  les  grandes  passions.  But  that 
does  not  prevent  me  from  being  a  good  friend,  and  a  con- 
stant one,  as  you  will  find,  if  you  care  to  test  me  in  that 
capacity.  Now  you  may  sit  down  here,"  she  patted  her 
slab  of  rock  invitingly,  "  and  discourse  about  anything 
you  please,  except  myself.  Egoist  though  I  am,  I  have 
had  enough  of  the  subject  for  to-day ! " 

And  Garth — the  man  of  surface  emotions  and  ready 
tongue — found  nothing  to  say  in  answer  to  this  kindly 
but  inexorable  dismissal  of  his  unspoken  suit.  He  had 
no  choice  but  to  accept  the  inevitable,  and  the  proffered 
seat.  But  the  permission  to  discourse  about  anything 
he  pleased  left  him  dumb,  and  it  was  Quita  herself  who 
guided  their  talk  into  a  less  personal  channel. 

"Have  you  had  any  new  arrivals  at  the  Strawberry 
Bank  lately  ? "  she  asked,  conversationally ;  and  the  ques- 
tion was  more  relevant  to  the  tabooed  topic  than  Garth 
was  likely  to  guess.  He  lived  close  to  the  hotel,  and  dined 
there  when  he  felt  convivially  disposed. 

"  Yes  ;  two  new  fellows  came  up  this  week.  A  doctor 
from  Mooltan  and  a  Gunner  from  '  Dera  Dismal,' — the 
Thibet  man, — Lenox,  who  seems  to  be  making  a  repu- 
tation of  sorts.  But  he  looks  a  wreck.  Smokes  like  a 
chimney ;  and  is  apparently  working  himself  to  death : 
a  thankless  form  of  folly." 

"  Perhaps.  Yet  India  needs  a  few  unsparing  workers 
— like  Captain  Lenox." 

She  spoke  with  studied  indifference;  but  her  fingers 
were  busy  uprooting  a  patch  of  moss. 

"Oh  yes,  India  has  a  healthy  appetite  for  unsparing 
workers!  She  is  a  grasping  harridan,  who  demands  all 
and  offers  nothing.  She  devours  the  lives  of  men  who 
are  foolish  enough  to  lose  their  hearts  to  her,  and  wrecks 
their  bodies  by  way  of  thanks." 

Quita's  lips  lifted  in  the  merest  shadow  of  a  smile. 
"Aren't  you  a  little  ungrateful  to  her?  She  has  been 
fairly  merciful  to  you!" 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  55 

"  I  have  never  given  her  the  ghost  of  a  chance  to  be 
otherwise !  I  don't  believe  in  overwork,  plus  the  Indian 
climate.  More  men  kill  themselves  by  a  happy  mixture 
of  both  than  the  importance  of  their  achievements  justifies. 
I  was  chaffing  Lenox  only  last  night  about  his  leaning 
towards  that  unrecognised  form  of  suicide ;  and  all  the 
answer  I  got  was  that  a  man  might  die  of  a  more  de- 
grading disease.  You  never  by  any  chance  get  a  rise  out 
of  old  Lenox ! " 

"  Do  you  know  him  well  ? " 

"As  well  as  it's  possible  to  know  a  fellow  who  lives 
with  all  his  shutters  up.  And  in  any  case  an  anchorite, 
and  a  woman-hater,  would  never  be  much  in  my  line.  The 
symptoms  appear  to  have  developed  in  the  last  few  years. 
Not  without  reason,  as  I  happen  to  know." 

"  What  do  you  happen  to  know  ? " 

The  question  came  almost  in  a  whisper ;  but  Garth,  who 
had  all  a  woman's  weakness  for  other  people's  affairs,  was 
too  intent  upon  his  ill-gotten  scrap  of  gossip  to  observe 
his  companion's  slight  change  of  manner. 

"  Why,  that  it's  simply  a  case  of  cherchez  la  femme,  as 
usual,"  he  answered,  lightly.  "  I  believe  it's  a  fact  that 
he  went  so  far  as  to  marry  one  of  these  women  he  affects 
to  despise,  when  he  was  on  leave  five  years  ago." 

Quita  started,  and  bit  her  lips.  "  What  reason  can  you 
have  for  believing  anything  .  .  so  improbable  ? " 

"My  dear  lady,  marriage  is  never  improbable.  You 
women  have  a  knack  of  tripping  up  the  most  unlikely 
subjects!  In  this  case,  I  had  the  details  from  an  old 
friend  of  mine.  She  happened  to  be  stopping  at  the 
same  hotel  as  Lenox  at  Zermatt.  Then  one  morning  he 
disappeared ;  and,  as  she  had  taken  rather  a  fancy  to  him, 
she  tried  to  find  out  what  had  become  of  him.  After  a 
good  deal  of  questioning,  it  transpired  that  he  had  been 
seen  coming  out  of  the  English  church  with  a  lady ;  and 
further  inquiry  revealed  the  fact  that  an  officer  named 
Lenox  had  been  quietly  married  there  the  day  before. 
Naturally,  she  scented  a  romance,  and  was  keen  to  know 
more.  But  he  seemed  to  have  vanished  outright.  Then 
ten  days  later  she  met  him  on  the  station  platform,  trav- 
elling alone,  and  obviously  down  on  his  luck.  He  told 


56  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

her  he  was  off  to  join  his  battery  in  India :  nothing  more. 
Problem :  What,  in  the  name  of  mystery,  had  he  done 
with  the  lady?" 

At  that  Quita  rose  abruptly,  her  cheeks  on  fire,  her 
whole  frame  tense  with  suppressed  agitation. 

"  Oh,  stop — stop.  I  can't  stand  any  more ! "  she  pro- 
tested, in  a  smothered  voice ;  and  at  once  Garth  was 
beside  her,  contrite  and  amazed. 

"  Miss  Maurice — what  have  I  said  to  upset  you  so  ? " 

"It's  not  your  fault.  You  couldn't  help  it,"  she  answered, 
without  looking  up.  "  But — you  were  telling  me  my  own 
story!" 

"  Good  Lord !     Then— it  was  you  ?  " 

"  Don't  say  any  more,  please.  I  never  meant  to  speak  ; 
only — one  had  to  stop  you — somehow.  It's  time  we  went 
back  to  the  others  now.  I  am  sure  you  must  be  wanting 
your  breakfast.  And  remember  " — she  faced  him  at  last, 
with  brave  deliberation — "I  trust  you,  as  a  gentleman, 
never  to  speak  of  this  again — to  me,  or  to  any  one  else." 

And  Garth  bowed  his  head,  and  followed  her,  in  a 
bewildered  silence. 


CHAPTER    V. 

"  He  that  getteth  a  wife  beginneth  a  possession ;  a  help  like  unto  himself, 
and  a  pillar  of  rest." — Ecdesiasticus. 

ELDRED  LENOX  stood  alone  in  the  Desmonds'  diminutive 
drawing-room,  patiently  impatient  for  companionship 
more  responsive  than  that  of  cane  chairs  and  tables, 
pictures  and  a  piano.  Yet  the  room  itself,  with  its 
atmosphere  of  peace  and  refinement,  gave  him  a  foretaste 
of  the  restfulness  that  made  Honor  Desmond's  campanion- 
ship  a  growing  necessity  to  this  man,  whose  heart  and 
brain  were  in  a  state  of  civil  war.  It  was  filled  with 
afternoon  sunlight,  with  the  faint,  clean  fragrance  of 
violets,  wild  roses,  and  maiden-hair  fern,  and  its  emptiness 
was  informed  and  pervaded  by  countless  suggestions  of 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  5*7 

a  woman's  presence ;  a  woman  versed  in  that  finest  of  all 
fine  arts,  the  beautifying  of  daily  life. 

In  this  era  of  hotels,  clubs,  and  motors,  of  days  spent 
in  sowing  hurry  and  reaping  shattered  nerves,  the  type  is 
growing  rarer,  and  it  will  be  an  ill  day  for  England's  hus- 
bands and  sons,  nay,  for  her  supremacy  among  nations, 
if  it  should  ever  become  extinct.  For  it  is  no  over-state- 
ment, but  simple  fact,  that  the  women  who  follow,  soon 
or  late,  in  the  track  of  her  victorious  arms,  women  of 
Honor  Desmond's  calibre — home -loving,  home -making, 
skilled  in  the  lore  of  heart  and  spirit — have  done  fully 
as  much  to  establish,  strengthen,  and  settle  her  scattered 
Empire  as  shot,  or  steel,  or  the  doubtful  machinations  of 
diplomacy. 

A  half -acknowledged  conviction  of  this  truth  was  under- 
mining Eldred's  skin-deep  cynicism ;  and  it  did  not  tend 
to  alleviate  his  renewed  sense  of  loss.  A  week  had  passed 
since  his  astounding  experience  on  the  Kajiar  Eoad;  a 
week  in  which  the  hours  of  sleep  had  been  a  more  neglig- 
ible quantity  than  usual;  in  which  he  had  fought  squarely 
against  an  imperative  need  to  escape  from  the  haunting 
consciousness  of  his  wife's  presence,  and  had  been  squarely 
beaten.  His  present  need  to  see  and  speak  with  Honor 
Desmond  was  an  ultimate  confession  of  that  defeat. 

On  reaching  the  bungalow,  he  was  told  that  the  Mem- 
sahib  had  gone  out  with  the  Chota  Sahib,  but  would 
doubtless  be  back  before  long,  and  had  decided  to  await 
her  return.  During  his  ride  with  her  that  morning,  he 
had  not  been  able  to  bring  himself  to  speak.  But  this 
time  he  intended  to  go  through  with  the  ordeal.  He  felt 
too  restless  to  sit  down ;  and  she  did  not  keep  him  waiting 
long. 

Footsteps  and  low  voices,  punctuated  with  silver 
laughter,  heralded  her  coming,  and  a  few  minutes  later 
she  entered,  carrying  a  pocket  edition  of  herself,  who 
clung  about  her  neck,  and  pressed  a  cool  rose-petal  cheek 
against  her  own. 

Lenox  had  described  her  as  a  magnificent  woman.  A 
Scot  may  generally  be  trusted  not  to  overstate  his  facts  ; 
and  certainly  Honor  Desmond,  in  those  radiant  early  days 
of  marriage,  deserved  no  less  an  adjective.  Height,  and  a 


58  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

buoyant  stateliness  of  bearing,  lent  a  regal  quality  to  her 
beauty.  Her  grey-blue  eyes  under  very  level  brows  were 
the  eyes  of  a  woman  dwelling  in  the  heart  of  life,  not 
merely  in  its  outskirts  and  pleasure-grounds. 

She  expressed  no  surprise  at  seeing  Lenox  again  so  soon. 
Come  when  he  might,  his  presence  was  accepted  as  a 
matter  of  course ;  the  surest  way  to  put  a  man  at  his 
ease. 

"  So  sorry  I  kept  you  waiting,"  she  said  simply,  and  the 
hand  she  gave  him  was  at  once  soft  and  strong, — an  epitome 
of  the  woman.  "Theo  was  lunching  out  with  Colonel 
Mayhew — they  are  both  very  full  of  that  book  of  his  on 
the  Hill  Tribes — and  /  have  been  devoting  most  of  my 
time  to  this  very  exacting  person  ! " 

Lenox  caressed  the  child's  red-gold  hair  with  a  cautious 
reverent  hand,  and  a  contraction  of  envy  at  his  heart. 

"  What  a  beautiful  little  chap  he  is !  Begins  to  look 
an  out-and-out  Meredith  already.  Desmond  must  be 
tremendously  proud  of  him." 

She  smiled  and  pressed  him  closer. 

"  He  is ;  and  I'm  nearly  as  bad  !  One  son,  three  fools, 
you  know !  Poor  little  Paul,  it's  not  fair  to  call  him 
names  when  he  can't  hit  back." 

"  You  called  him  after  Wyndham  ? " 

"  Yes.  They're  like  brothers,  those  two.  Now  let  me 
get  rid  of  him,  and  we'll  have  a  quiet  talk  till  Theo  comes 
back.  Sit  down  and  smoke,  please." 

He  complied;  and  she,  returning,  established  herself 
beside  her  work-table,  and  took  up  an  elaborate  bit  of 
smocking  without  question  or  remark. 

His  trouble  and  stress  of  mind  were  very  evident  to 
her ;  but  she  was  one  of  those  rare  women  who  are  chary 
of  questions — who,  for  all  their  desire  to  help  and  serve, 
never  approach  too  near,  or  say  the  word  too  much,  which 
was,  perhaps,  one  reason  why  men  found  her  so  restful, 
and  instinctively  talked  to  her  about  themselves. 

But  Lenox  was  long  in  beginning. 

By  imperceptible  degrees,  this  unsought  gift  of  friendship 
was  melting  the  morsel  of  ice  at  his  heart ;  was  reviving 
in  him,  against  his  will,  that  keen  appreciation  of  a  culti- 
vated woman's  sympathy  and  companionship,  which,  among 


AFTER    FIVE   YEARS.  59 

finely  tempered  men,  is  as  potent  a  factor  in  the  shaping 
of  destinies  as  passion,  or  hot-headed  emotion. 

For  a  while  he  permitted  himself  the  bitter-sweet  satis- 
faction of  merely  watching  her  where  she  sat,  in  a  shaft 
of  sunlight,  that  struck  golden  gleams  through  the  bur- 
nished abundance  of  her  hair ;  of  noting  the  grace  and 
dignity  of  her  pose,  and  speculating  as  to  the  nature  of 
her  thoughts.  His  wife's  reckless  impulse  on  that  fateful 
September  day  was  bringing  him  now  within  measurable 
distance  of  a  very  human  danger.  The  deep,  passionate 
heart  of  him,  crushed  and  stifled  during  the  past  five  years, 
was  in  no  safe  state  to  be  brought  into  contact  with  a 
lighted  match.  But  of  this  danger  he  was,  by  his  very 
nature,  sublimely  unaware. 

Finally  he  took  the  short  pipe  from  his  lips  and 
spoke. 

"  Of  course  you  know  I  have  something  definite  to  say, 
or  I  should  hardly  have  the  cheek  to  inflict  myself  on  you 
twice  in  the  twenty-four  hours." 

She  looked  up  and  smiled.  "  You're  evidently  in  one 
of  your  bad  moods,  or  you  would  not  vex  me  by  putting 
it  like  that." 

"  Sorry  to  vex  you,  but  I  am  in  a  bad  mood ;  have  been 
for  the  last  week ;  so  you  must  make  allowances.  I  can't 
sleep,  and  a  restless  devil  inside  me  won't  let  me  settle  to 
steady  work.  Nerves,  I  suppose.  I  don't  look  a  likely 
subject,  do  I?  But  they  give  me  a  deal  of  trouble  at 
times ;  and  I  came  to  say  that  I  must  go  back  on  my 
arrangement  with  you  and  Desmond  and  clear  out  of  this 
before  the  end  of  the  week." 

"  Oh,  but  surely  that  would  be  a  great  pity ;  a  great 
disappointment  to  us  both.  Is  it  really  a  case  of '  must '  ? " 

"I  think  so." 

"And  you  have  only  been  here  a  fortnight!  Isn't  it 
rather  early  days  to  give  in  ? " 

"Very  early  days — as  the  case  must  appear  to  you; 
and  the  evil  of  it  is  that  I  have  no  power  to  make  things 
clearer.  Think  me  an  overwrought  fool ;  a  broken-backed 
corn-stalk,  if  you  choose.  It  will  hurt,  of  course ;  but  it 
can't  be  helped." 

He  spoke  with  undisguised  bitterness,  and,  laying  down 


60  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

her  work,  she  looked  at  him  straightly,  a  great  compassion 
in  her  eyes. 

"  You  misunderstand  the  fundamentals  of  friendship  if 
you  can  talk  like  that,"  she  said  gently.  "  It  is  rooted  in 
reticence  in  respect  for  another's  individuality.  Whatever 
you  choose  to  do,  you  may  be  very  sure  that  I  shall 
neither  doubt  your  good  reasons,  nor  seek  to  know  them. 
That  is  my  idea  of  what  it  means  to  be  a  friend." 

"  I  stand  rebuked,"  he  answered  gravely,  "  and  I'm  not 
likely  to  forget  what  you  have  said." 

"  At  the  same  time,"  she  added  in  a  lighter  tone,  "  one 
is  only  human!  And  I  can't  let  you  leave  Dalhousie 
without  a  word  of  protest — even  if  it  is  useless."  She 
hesitated.  "  May  I  speak  straight  ? " 

"  As  straight  as  you  please.     I  should  prefer  it." 

"  Well,  I  think  that  if  it  is  a  case  of  nerves,  or — worry 
of  any  kind,  nothing  can  be  worse  for  you  than  your 
own  society.  Such  amusement  as  we  can  offer  you  up 
here  may  be  frivolous  and  insignificant  enough,  but, 
believe  me,  it  is  far  better  for  you  just  now  than  the 
most  sublime  snowfields  and  glaciers  at  the  back  of 
Beyond  !  You  know  you  are  free  to  come  here  whenever 
you  please.  Theo  enjoys  having  you ;  so  do  I.  And  I'm 
sure  it's  good  for  you  to  fraternise  with  something  more 
human  than  a  mountain  ! " 

He  smiled,  but  did  not  answer  at  once ;  and  suddenly 
she  lifted  her  head,  her  face  all  animation. 

"  Look  here,  I  have  a  notion — an  inspired  notion.  Why 
should  not  you  two  get  Colonel  Mayhew's  permission  to 
go  off  on  a  week's  shooting  trip  beyond  Chumba.  Ten 
days  if  you  like.  Theo  would  love  it.  You  would  come 
back  to  your  writing  like  a  giant  refreshed.  There  now, 
isn't  that  a  plan  worth  thinking  over  ? " 

Moved  beyond  his  wont,  Lenox  leaned  impulsively 
towards  her. 

"  My  dear  Mrs  Desmond,  your  kindness  overpowers 
me.  But  I  really  can't  see  that  you  and  your  husband 
are  called  upon  to  put  yourselves  out  like  that,  on  my 
behalf.  You  are  up  here  to  enjoy  your  short  holiday 
together ;  and  you  are  rare  good  companions,  as  I  know* 
What  right  have  I  to  monopolise  him  for  ten  days,  and 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  61 

leave  you  alone  ?  Why  should  you  care,  after  all,  if  I  do 
go  and  knock  myself  to  bits  in  the  interior  ? " 

"  That  question  is  unworthy  of  you,  and  doesn't  deserve 
an  answer,"  she  said  on  a  note  of  gentle  reproof.  "  Mine 
does.  Will  you  do  what  I  ask  ? " 

"  Since  you  ask  it  of  me — yes.  Always  supposing  that 
it  suits  Desmond  to  go." 

"  Of  course  it  will  suit  him.  We  will  settle  it  when  he 
comes  in." 

He  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  and  sighed. 

"  You're  amazingly  good  to  me,  Mrs  Desmond ;  and  I'm 
an  ungrateful  brute.  Will  you  overlook  that,  and  play 
me  something  warranted  to  soothe  jarred  nerves,  till  your 
husband  comes  ? " 

"  Of  course  I  will,  gladly.  Only  you  mustn't  expect 
real  music  from  a  hireling ! " 

She  chose  one  of  Beethoven's  most  tenderly  gracious 
Allegrettos,  and  the  soul  of  the  hireling  responded  credit- 
ably to  the  magic  of  her  touch. 

But  before  she  had  played  many  bars  a  clatter  of  hoofs 
announced  Desmond's  return.  He  flung  himself  from  the 
saddle,  cleared  the  verandah  steps  at  a  bound,  and  entered 
the  room : — a  man  of  magnetic  vitality,  with  a  tempera- 
ment like  a  clear  flame  ;  a  typical  officer  of  that  isolated 
force  to  whose  gallantry  and  unwearied  devotion  to  duty 
India  owes  more  than  she  is  apt  to  acknowledge,  or, 
possibly,  to  perceive.  He  nodded  a  welcome  to  Lenox, 
signed  to  him  to  remain  seated,  and  going  straight  to  the 
piano  laid  a  hand  on  his  wife's  shoulder. 

"  Don't  stop.  Finish  your  piece,"  he  said,  as  she  smiled 
up  at  him ;  and  he  did  not  remove  his  hand,  but  remained 
standing  there,  in  simple  satisfaction  at  having  got  back 
to  her. 

Now  and  again,  at  very  rare  intervals,  Nature  seems  to 
select  a  favoured  man  and  woman  to  uphold  the  torch  of 
the  ideal,  lest  it  be  reduced  to  sparks  and  smoke,  to  refute 
the  cynic  and  the  pessimist ;  to  hearten  a  world  nauseated 
and  discouraged  by  the  eternal  tragi-comedy  of  marriage, 
with  the  spectacle  of  a  human  relationship  of  unsullied 
beauty :  a  relationship  that  passes,  by  imperceptible 
degrees,  from  the  first  antiphony  of  passionate  hearts  to 


62  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

a  deep  deliberate  bliss,  "  durable  from  the  daily  dust  of 
life." 

Desmond's  first  marriage  had  brought  him  no  such  reve- 
lation of  the  hidden  mysteries  of  union ;  no  companion- 
ship worthy  of  the  name ;  and  the  happiness  that  comes 
late,  on  the  heels  of  conflict  and  pain,  takes  a  more  con- 
scious grip  on  the  heart,  is  more  firmly  held  to,  more 
jealously  guarded,  than  that  which  meets  us  on  the  thres- 
hold, and  is  accepted  as  part  of  the  natural  order  of  things. 
Blest  with  vivacity,  courage,  and  an  ardent  zest  for 
Frontier  soldiering,  Desmond  had  rarely  found  life  other 
than  very  good  ;  but  he  had  only  proven  the  full  measure 
of  its  goodness  since  his  marriage  with  Honor  Meredith. 
And  the  months  brought  increasing  reliance  on  her  com- 
radeship ;  increasing  insight  into  the  depths  and  delicacies 
of  a  passion  that  was  almost  genius.  His  need  of  her  was 
deeper  now  than  it  had  been  two  years  ago,  when  he  had 
believed  himself  at  the  summit  of  desire.  For  a  great 
love  is  like  a  great  mountain-range.  Each  height  scaled 
reveals  farther  heights  beyond.  Attainment  is  no  part  of 
our  programme  here  ;  and  there  may  well  be  truth  in  the 
axiom  that  "  to  travel  hopefully  is  better  than  to  arrive." 

But  Eldred  Lenox,  tangled  in  the  twofold  cords  of 
temperament  and  circumstance,  was  denied  even  the 
privilege  of  travelling  hopefully,  and  at  moments  like  the 
present  he  suffered  the  additional  torment  of  looking  into 
happiness  through  another  man's  eyes.  It  was  futile  to 
reiterate  the  obvious  drawbacks  of  marriage  for  an  ambi- 
tious man,  standing  on  the  threshold  of  a  coveted  career. 
These  distracting  Desmonds  cheerfully  and  unconsciously 
refuted  them  all !  But  he  accepted  the  thorns  of  the 
situation  as  toll  paid  for  the  privilege  of  an  intimacy  he 
would  on  no  account  have  forgone,  and  endured  them 
with  the  grim  stoicism  that  was  his. 

The  Allegretto  ended,  Honour  swung  round  on  her  stool, 
and  set  forth  her  Chumba  project  without  reference  to 
Eldred's  threatened  departure.  Desmond  laughingly  pro- 
fessed himself  ready  to  obey  orders,  within  reasonable 
limits  ;  and  it  was  finally  decided  that  he  should  write  at 
once  to  Colonel  Mayhew,  Eesident  of  the  native  State  in 
which  Dalhousie's  hills  are  situated,  and  whose  capital 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  63 

lies  in  a  cup-shaped  valley  eighteen  miles  below  the 
English  station. 

Thereupon  Lenox  rose  to  take  his  leave ;  but  on  the 
threshold  he  paused,  as  though  an  afterthought  had 
occurred  to  him. 

"  Next  time  you  happen  to  go  out  calling,  Mrs  Desmond," 
he  said,  with  studied  carelessness,  "  you  might  like  to 
look  up  a  Miss  Maurice  and  her  brother.  They've  been 
here  all  the  winter ;  and  are  living  on  the  top  of  Bakrotas. 
I  met  them — some  years  ago,  in  Switzerland.  Artists, 
out  here  for  painting  purposes — and  rather  out  of  the 
common  run.  You  might  find  them  interesting." 

"  They  sound  as  if  they  would  be !  Thank  you  for 
letting  me  know  of  their  existence.  I'll  amuse  myself  by 
exploiting  them  while  you  two  are  away." 

But  Lenox  had  no  wish  to  expatiate  upon  the  subject, 
and  with  a  muttered  disclaimer  he  was  gone. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

"  I  will  but  say  what  mere  friends  say — 

Or  only  a  thought  stronger. 
I  will  hold  your  hand  as  long  as  all  may — 
Or — so  very  little  longer." 

—BROWNING. 

"  No,  I  don't  like  her,  and  I  don't  believe  I  ever  shall. 
One  cannot  deny  that  she  is  beautiful,  charming,  complete ; 
too  complete  for  my  taste.  Cela  me  gdne.  I  know  no 
other  way  to  express  it." 

Quita  Maurice  balanced  herself  on  the  railing  of  her 
matchbox  verandah,  and  gazed  critically  at  the  corner 
where  the  last  of  Honor  Desmond's  jhampannis  had  not 
long  since  disappeared  from  view.  Garth,  the  inevitable, 
stood  close  beside  her,  faultlessly  equipped  as  always, 
even  to  the  gold -tipped  cigarette,  and  the  violets  that 
blossomed  perennially  in  his  coat.  He  grew  them  in  pots 
expressly  for  the  purpose ;  and  his  bearer  set  them  in  a 
wine-glass  on  his  breakfast-table  every  morning. 


64  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

Quita's  verdict  on  her  visitor  moved  him  to  a  smile  of 
half -cynical  amusement.  He  enjoyed  her  occasional 
unabashed  lapses  into  the  eternal  feminine. 

"  I'm  with  you  there,"  he  answered,  heartily.  "  The 
worst  fault  a  human  being  can  commit  is  to  be  faultless. 
Poor  Mrs  Desmond !  She  will  have  to  subsist  without 
our  admiration." 

"  No  need  to  waste  pity  on  her,  mon  ami.  I  am  con- 
vinced that  she  gets  far  more  admiration  than  is  good  for 
her  as  it  is.  She  has  only  been  married  a  little  over  two 
years,  I  believe,  and  it  is  safe  to  presume  that  her  husband 
idolises  her  shadow.  She  is  the  sort  of  woman  men  put 
on  a  pedestal,  and  worship  kneeling ;  and  women  mostly 
detest,  because,  in  their  secret  hearts,  they  would  like  to 
be  up  there  too !  Personally  I  have  no  use  for  pedestals. 
I  am  content  to  be  bon  camarade  !  As  for  that  sublime 
Desmond  woman,  I  feel  morally  certain  that  she  never 
commits  an  indiscretion,  or  has  a  knot  in  her  shoe-lace, 
or  loses  her  scissors  ! " 

"Are  you  peculiarly  lenient  towards  those  three 
failings  ? " 

"  I  am  quite  culpably  lenient  towards  the  whole  tribe 
of  human  failings.  They  are  the  salt  of  life.  I  have 
never  really  understood  that  incessant  harping  on  the 
mystery  of  pain  and  sin.  The  question,  Why  should  they 
be  allowed  to  exist?  seems  to  me  simply  fatuous.  No 
world  worth  living  in  could  have  been  created  without 
them.  They  are  the  backbone  of  all  drama ;  and  I  love 
drama  inordinately.  They  put  the  iron  into  men's  souls, 
and  the  grit  into  their  characters.  Think  what  a  nause- 
ating crew  of  sentimentalists  we  should  be, 

'  If  all  had  love,  as  every  nest  hath  eggs, 
And  every  head  of  maize  her  feathery  cap.' 

I,  for  one,  should  beg  to  be  excused  from  spending  three- 
score years  and  ten  on  a  planet  full  of  sugar-plums  and 
kisses ! " 

She  left  her  perch  on  the  railings,  and  stood  erect,  in  an 
unconscious  attitude  of  defiance  ;  and  Garth  watched  her 
speculatively  through  narrowed  lids.  He  was  wondering 
whether  Mrs  Desmond's  remark  that  she  had  persuaded 


AFTER    FIVE   YEARS.  65 

Captain  Lenox  to  go  shooting  beyond  Chumba,  instead  of 
deserting  Dalhousie  for  the  interior,  might  not  be  ac- 
countable for  this  unusual  burst  of  eloquence. 

"I  had  no  notion  that  you  went  in  for  studying  big 
questions  of  that  kind,"  he  remarked,  with  an  amused  air 
of  interest. 

"  Studying  them !  But  no !  What  call  is  there  to 
study  them  ?  I  have  my  ears  and  eyes,  and  my  priceless 
intuitions.  It  is  enough.  An  artist  will  learn  more  about 
life  and  character  with  the  help  of  those  three,  than  all 
the  savants  in  creation  could  imbibe  from  a  hecatomb  of 
books.  Michel — where  are  you  ?  What  has  been  keep- 
ing you  so  quiet  since  Mrs  Desmond's  departure  ? " 

Michael,  who  promptly  appeared  on  the  threshold,  held 
up  a  large  drawing-block  for  his  sister's  inspection. 

"  Voila  done  I     Que  dis-tu  ?     Is  it  not  to  the  life  ?  " 

The  picture  was  a  rapid,  delicate  pastel  study  of  Honor 
Desmond,  presenting  her,  as  Michael  had  said,  "to  the 
life."  The  broad  brow,  the  short  straight  nose,  the  strength 
and  tenderness  of  the  mouth  and  chin,  the  smile  that 
hovered  like  a  light  in  her  serious  eyes :  every  detail  was 
faultlessly  rendered.  But  Quita's  cry  of  surprise  expressed 
annoyance  rather  than  admiration. 

"  What  possessed  you  to  do  that  ?  "  she  asked,  sharply. 
"  It  is  a  living  likeness — yes.  Better  send  it  to  her  friend, 
Captain  Lenox.  He  would  give  you  a  hundred  and  fifty 
rupees  for  it  like  a  shot." 

The  instant  the  words  were  out  she  tingled  with  morti- 
fication at  having  spoken  them  in  Garth's  presence.  But 
he  assumed  a  critical  interest  in  the  picture,  and  Michael, 
in  the  first  flush  of  achievement,  had  eyes  and  thoughts 
for  nothing  else. 

"  A  hundred  and  fifty  ?  Parbleu,  non  !  "  he  answered, 
hotly.  "  It  is  a  possession,  a  triumph.  I  do  not  part  with 
it  for  money.  All  the  while  she  talked  to  you,  I  never 
took  my  eyes  from  her  face,  and  I  struck  while  the  iron 
was  hot.  Mon  Dieu,  mais  elle  est  superbe  !  (Test  une  ddesse 
veritable  !  Eien  non  plus  I " 

In  ecstatic  moments  Michael  deserted  English  alto- 
gether for  the  natural  language  of  the  emotions;  and 
Quita  flashed  a  glance  of  amusement  at  Garth. 

E 


66  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  The  pedestal  already,  you  see ! " 

But  Michael,  deaf  or  unheeding,  continued  his  psean  of 
praise. 

"  But  the  head  alone  is  not  enough.  II  faut  le  tout 
ensemble.  Qa  sera  magnifique.  Now  at  last  I  have  the 
centre  figure  for  my  great  picture — Mater  Triumphans. 
In  a  day  or  two  I  call  on  her.  I  ask  her  permission  to 
immortalise  her  and  myself  in  one  achievement.  No 
woman  in  her  senses  could  refuse  so  flattering  a  request ; 
and  her  lips,  her  eyes,  betray  that,  goddess  or  not,  she  is 
before  all  things  a  woman." 

"  But,  my  good  Michel,"  Quita  interposed,  with  a  de- 
liberate lightness,  "  ride  your  enthusiasm  on  the  curb,  I 
beg  of  you.  Isn't  one  goddess  at  a  time  enough  to  fill 
your  expansive  heart  ?  I  warn  you  that  if  you  are  going 
to  disgrace  me  by  ostentatiously  falling  in  love  with  this 
Mrs  Desmond,  I  shall  give  you  up  for  good,  and  insist  on 
a  legal  separation !  Now,  I  am  tired  of  idling,  and  it's 
high  time  I  went  back  to  my  picture."  She  held  out  a 
hand  to  Garth.  "  A  demain,"  she  said,  with  a  gracious 
smile  of  dismissal.  "  But  not  till  tea-time,  please.  I  have 
a  certain  amount  of  work  to  get  through  every  day  if  you 
have  not ! " 

Garth's  reply  was  conveyed  in  a  lingering  pressure 
of  her  hand.  He  was  a  past  master  in  this  discreet 
method  of  expressing  the  inexpressible ;  and  he  had  the 
satisfaction  of  seeing  the  colour  deepen  in  her  cheeks,  as 
she  released  herself  hastily,  and  passed  on  into  the  house. 

During  a  long  ride  homeward,  Garth  found  time  for 
much  interested  speculation  on  the  possible  issue  of  events. 
The  situation  appeared  sufficiently  incomprehensible  to 
afford  scope  for  dramatic  developments ;  and  he  shared  to 
the  full  Quita's  taste  for  drama,  provided  always  that  it 
did  not  deprive  him  of  sleep,  or  render  him  personally  un- 
comfortable. He  shared  also  her  magnanimous  attitude 
towards  human  shortcomings ;  frankly  acknowledging  his 
own,  and  skilfully  utilising  those  of  other  men — and 
women.  But  bad  men  are  as  often  tripped  up  by  the  un- 
quenchable spark  of  good  in  human  nature  as  good  men 
are  by  the  equally  unquenchable  spark  of  evil ;  and  James 
Garth  was  not  altogether  devoid  of  the  little  leaven  that 


AFTER    FIVE   YEARS.  67 

leavens  the  whole  lump.  There  were  even  moments — and 
the  present  was  one — when  it  asserted  itself  to  the  detri- 
ment of  his  cool-headed  schemes.  Generally  speaking,  a 
husband  in  the  background  in  no  way  disturbed  his  accom- 
modating code  of  morals.  But  scruples,  hitherto  unknown, 
seemed  set  like  a  hedge  of  defence  about  this  girl,  who 
was,  in  every  respect,  so  very  much  a  woman. 

For  all  her  love  of  dangerous  ground,  her  airy  scorn  of 
conventions,  she  had  a  knack  of  compelling  some  measure 
of  uprightness,  even  from  so  unpromising  a  subject  as 
James  Garth.  Thus,  bone-bred  gossip  though  he  was,  his 
silence  in  respect  of  her  astounding  revelation  was  assured. 
Her  words,  "  I  trust  you,  as  a  gentleman,"  had  quickened 
that  good  grain  in  him,  which  is  the  saving  grace  of  us  all. 
Also  the  knowledge  itself  hurt  him  more  than  he  could 
have  believed.  It  seriously  upset  his  equanimity  for  no 
less  than  a  week ;  not  indeed  to  the  extent  of  damaging 
his  appetite,  or  his  sleep,  but  enough  to  make  her  society 
a  distraction  more  bitter  than  sweet ;  enough  to  drive  him 
into  dining  at  the  Strawberry  Bank  Hotel,  though  the 
cuisine  of  that  mixed  establishment  compared  very  un- 
favourably with  his  own. 

Here  he  naturally  met  Lenox,  and  the  meeting  re- 
awakened his  consuming  curiosity ;  awakened  also  those 
primitive  savage  instincts  which  no  surface  civilisation 
will  ever  annihilate  while  the  world  holds  one  woman  and 
two  men.  And  how  should  it  be  accounted  theft  to  rob  a 
man  of  that  which,  to  all  appearance,  he  neither  possessed 
nor  desired  to  recapture  ? 

In  twenty  years  of  philandering  he  had  never  experi- 
enced so  keen  a  desire  for  conquest ;  and  if  this  inexplic- 
able husband  chose  to  leave  his  wife  in  an  equivocal 
position,  he  must  be  prepared  to  accept  the  consequences, 
which  are,  in  general,  the  last  things  that  any  average 
man  is  prepared  to  accept.  Shrewdness  and  vanity  alike 
convinced  Garth  that  Quita's  attitude  on  Dynkund,  viewed 
in  the  light  of  her  subsequent  disclosure,  counted  for 
nothing;  while  the  fact  that  for  six  months  she  had 
readily  accepted  his  companionship  counted  for  much. 
Her  fine  sense  of  honour  had  naturally  compelled  her  to 
"head  him  off"  dangerous  ground.  But  he  consoled  him- 


68  THE    GREAT    AMULET. 

self  with  the  reflection  that  a  woman's  sense  of  honour  is 
rarely  her  strongest  point.  Pit  her  heart  against  it,  and 
the  outcome  is  merely  a  question  of  time.  A  conviction 
founded  on  his  own  complicated  past ! 

In  his  esteem,  then,  nothing  stood  between  him  and  his 
desire  but  a  poor  crop  of  scruples,  readily  trampled  under 
foot ;  and  by  a  fine  stroke  of  irony  Lenox  himself  com- 
pleted the  trampling  process.  He,  who  rarely  took  an 
active  part  in  the  random,  unedifying  talk  congenial  to 
after-dinner  "  pegs  "  and  cigars,  had  one  night  been  moved 
to  administer  advice  to  a  rapturous  subaltern,  in  the  shape 
of  a  few  trenchant  cynicisms  in  respect  of  women  and 
marriage,  bidding  him  not  be  fool  enough  to  run  his  mis- 
guided head  into  the  noose ;  and  the  subaltern  had  col- 
lapsed like  a  pricked  air-ball.  But  Garth,  to  his  own 
surprise,  retorted  with  no  little  warmth ;  and  Lenox, 
turning  in  his  chair,  looked  at  him  deliberately — a  glint 
of  steel  in  his  eyes. 

"  I  couldn't  presume  to  cross  swords  with  you,  Major," 
he  remarked,  on  a  quiet  note  of  contempt.  "Your  ex- 
perience is  as  extensive  as  my  own  is  limited ;  and  you 
have  the  good  luck  to  be  popular.  I  have  not.  But  that 
is  simply  a  question  of  metier.  Yours  is  to  flatter  women, 
even  behind  their  backs ;  whilst  I  am  blockhead  enough 
to  speak  the  truth  about  them,  even  to  their  faces.  And 
the  last  thing  a  normal  woman  wants  from  any  man  is — 
the  truth." 

From  that  moment  Garth  had  hardened  his  heart. 
And  now — a  week  later — as  he  rode  down  from  the 
Crow's  Nest,  he  chuckled  to  himself  over  the  satisfactory 
way  in  which  Lenox  was  playing  into  his  hands  by  adopt- 
ing an  attitude  that  would  plainly  act  as  a  foil  to  his  own 
deferentially  persistent  courtship ;  a  metaphorical  walk- 
ing round  the  walls  of  Jericho,  that  must  end  in  capitula- 
tion, soon  or  late. 

From  his  point  of  view,  Quita's  unique  position  of  per- 
sonal freedom,  coupled  with  legal  bondage,  added  a  distinct 
flavour  to  the  whole  affair :  and  so  well  pleased  was  he 
with  the  aspect  of  things  in  general,  that,  before  reaching 
Potrain,  he  headed  his  pony  up  another  corkscrew  path, 
that  climbed  to  another  doll's  house  bungalow.  Here  he 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  69 

spent  a  couple  of  hours,  lounging  in  the  drawing-room  of 
one  of  the  lesser  lights  in  his  firmament,  flattering  her  by 
a  delicately  conveyed  impression  that  he  found  her  the 
only  woman  in  the  station  worth  talking  to.  And  so, 
home  to  his  own  well-appointed  house,  where,  two  hours 
after  an  irreproachable  dinner,  he  slept  the  sleep  of  the 
man  whose  conscience  has  been  trained  not  to  make 
inconvenient  remarks. 


CHAPTEE  VII. 

"  God  uses  us  to  help  each  other  so, 
Lending  our  lives  out." 

— BEOWNING. 

BEFORE  May  was  out  Honor  met  her  unpromising  acquaint 
ance  several  times,  by  chance.  But  nothing  beyond  forma 
greetings  passed  between  them.  Twice  she  happened  t 
be  riding  alone  with  Lenox ;  the  third  time,  her  husband 
was  with  them :  and  on  every  occasion  Quita's  companion 
was  James  Garth, — the  only  one  among  them  all  whc 
enjoyed  the  situation.  Quita  herself  found  a  perverse 
satisfaction,  unworthy  of  her  best  moments,  in  thus  em- 
phasising her  indifference  to  her  husband's  presence; 
ignoring,  with  characteristic  heedlessness,  the  fact  that 
a  two-edged  weapon  is  an  ill  thing  to  handle  :  and  Lenox, 
accepting  her  unspoken  intimation  au  pied  de  la  lettre, 
steeled  himself  to  half-cynical,  half-stoical  endurance. 

He  had  returned  heartened,  and  fortified  by  a  week  of 
stirring  sport,  and  by  closer  contact  with  a  personality 
wholesome  and  invigorating  as  a  hill  wind ;  a  sympathy 
of  the  practical  order,  that  found  expression  in  matter-of- 
fact  service  and  good  fellowship,  rather  than  in  speech. 
He  had  given  up  all  thought  of  leaving  the  station;  had 
decided  to  set  his  teeth,  and  go  through  with  his  ordeal, 
sooner  than  disappoint  these  new  -  found  friends,  who 
seemed  already  to  have  become  a  part  of  his  life.  Such 
rapid  intimacies  are  a  distinctive  feature  of  a  country 


70  THE    GREAT    AMULET. 

where  a  guest  may  come  for  a  night,  and  stay  for  a  month ; 
where  all  white  men  are  brothers,  in  the  widest  sense  of 
the  word. 

And  Eldred  Lenox  did  not  hold  with  half  measures. 
Since  he  stood  his  ground  in  order  to  please  the  Desmonds, 
he  held  himself  ready  to  fall  in  with  any  joint  plans  they 
might  choose  to  make.  Thus,  he  agreed  to  share  in  their 
arrangements  for  the  June  camp,  at  Kajiar, — a  natural 
glade  hid  in  the  heart  of  Kalatope  Forest:  and  even 
accepted,  without  demur,  Colonel  Mayhew's  proposal  to 
preface  the  '  week '  with  a  two  days'  house-party  at  the 
Chumba  Residency ; — a  picturesque  house,  whose  garden 
of  lawns,  and  roses,  and  English  trees  falls  sheer  to  the 
eddying  river  below.  The  two  sportsmen  had  spent  a 
couple  of  days  here  on  their  way  back,  the  Resident  being 
down  in  Chumba  on  State  business ;  and  his  suggestion 
had  been  the  natural  outcome  of  Desmond's  keen  interest 
in  the  book  which  was  his  hobby  of  the  moment. 

"I  must  be  down  here  then,"  he  explained,  "for  the 
Minjla  M&la,  a  superstitious  ceremony  by  which  we  test 
the  luck  of  the  State  for  the  coming  year.  An  unfortunate 
buffalo  is  flung  into  the  Ravee,  just  above  the  rapids ;  and 
if  he  succumbs,  or  scrambles  out  on  the  far  side,  the  gods 
will  not  fail  us.  But  if  he  lands  on  the  town  bank,  they 
won't  trouble  their  heads  about  us  till  next  June.  Natur- 
ally we  do  our  best  to  prevent  such  a  catastrophe,  in  spite 
of  our  conviction  that  the  matter  is  settled  by  the  will  of 
the  gods  !  As  far  as  I  know,  the  ceremony  is  peculiar  to 
Chumba ;  and  this  would  be  a  good  chance  for  you  to  see 
it,  if  you  don't  mind  a  trifle  of  heat,  and  if  your  wife 
would  care  to  come  too,  so  much  the  better." 

"  She'll  come  like  a  shot,  thanks,"  Desmond  answered 
heartily. 

"  Good  ! — We'll  get  up  a  native  dinner  at  the  Palace  in 
honour  of  the  occasion.  My  little  girl  has  set  her  heart 
on  the  plan,  rather  to  my  wife's  dismay.  The  Maurices 
want  to  come  too ;  and  we  may  have  to  include  Garth,  on 
her  account ;  though  I  confess  I  wanted  her  for  myself ! 
She's  worth  talking  to,  that  girl.  There's  a  touch  of  genius 
in  her  composition,  and  a  touch  of  the  folly  that's  apt  to 
go  along  with  it;  or  she  would  never  give  the  gossips  a 


AFTER    FIVE    YEARS.  *7l 

chance  to  couple  her  name  with  Garth's.  If  he  is  in 
earnest,  so  much  the  worse  for  her. — We  may  count  on 
you,  Lenox,  I  hope  ? "  he  added,  turning  to  the  impassive 
man  at  his  side,  whom  he  had  unwittingly  smitten  between 
the  joints  of  his  harness. 

Lenox's  muttered  assent  was  a  trifle  indistinct,  owing  to 
the  thick  pipe-stem  between  his  teeth,  and  rising  deliber- 
ately, he  passed  out  of  the  smoking-room  into  the  wistaria- 
shadowed  verandah,  where  the  turbulent  voice  of  the  river 
seemed  to  echo  his  own  mood.  It  was  well  for  himself, 
and  for  James  Garth  also,  that  he  ran  no  risk  of  meeting 
the  man  at  that  moment. 

The  thought  of  that  first  fortnight  in  June  unnerved 
him.  For  Colonel  Mayhew's  words  had  done  more  than 
turn  the  knife  in  an  open  wound.  Lenox  was  blest,  or 
curst,  with  that  most  pitiless  of  mentors,  a  Scotch  con- 
science. Whatever  Quita's  failings,  or  her  attitude  to 
himself,  there  could  be  no  shelving  the  fact  that  he  was 
her  husband : — the  guardian  of  her  good  name,  the  one 
man  on  earth  who  could  claim  the  right  to  criticise  her 
conduct.  Her  probable  repudiation  both  of  his  criticism, 
and  his  right  to  offer  it,  did  not,  in  his  view,  justify  him  in 
standing  aloof,  if  need  for  speech  should  arise.  Possibly 
passion,  smouldering  at  the  heart  of  duty,  urged  him 
towards  the  desperate  experiment.  But  if  so,  he  would 
not  admit  it,  even  to  himself.  He  merely  decided — with 
an  access  of  fastidious  disgust  at  the  whole  situation — to 
accept  this  fate-sent  opportunity  for  judging  how  far  her 
behaviour  warranted  Colonel  Mayhew's  kindly  concern. 
For  he  knew  enough  of  Garth  and  his  methods  to  feel 
certain  that,  in  his  case,  to  covet  an  invitation  was  to 
procure  it. 

After  all,  he  reflected  bitterly,  a  closer  acquaintance 
with  facts  might  cure  him  of  an  infatuation  against  which 
pride  and  inherited  instinct  had  rebelled  in  vain :  and 
so  intricate  are  the  mazes  of  self-deception,  that  he  firmly 
believed  in  his  own  desire  to  be  cured. 

It  was,  no  doubt,  solely  in  pursuance  of  this  purpose 
that,  a  few  days  later,  he  added  his  initials,  with  a  wry 
face  of  resignation,  to  a  subscription  list,  proposing  that 
the  bachelors  of  the  station  should  give  a  ball  on  the  third 


72  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

of  June.  He  had  not  seen  the  inside  of  a  ballroom  for 
years :  but  since  the  season  seemed  marked  for  strange 
experiences,  this  one  might  as  well  be  included  with  the 
rest.  And  in  the  meantime,  this  inconsistent  misogynist 
slept  little,  smoked  inordinately,  and  spent  the  greater 
part  of  his  leisure  at  Terah  Cottage.  Perhaps  this  also 
was  part  of  the  cure ! 

Desmond  noted  the  fact,  not  without  an  occasional 
spark  of  annoyance.  For  all  his  magnanimity,  the  man 
was  masculine  to  the  core ;  hot-blooded,  and  still  very 
much  a  lover  at  heart.  But  pride  and  a  boundless  trust 
in  the  woman  he  had  won  had  withheld  him  as  yet  from 
serious  comment. 

Lenox  dined  with  them  on  the  night  of  the  dance ;  and 
came  armed  with  programmes,  at  Honor's  request. 

"  Are  you  going  to  give  me  my  share  before  we  start  ? " 
he  asked,  as  they  shook  hands. 

"  If  I  do,  will  you  try  to  dance  ? " 

He  laughed  abruptly.  "  Not  I.  It  would  be  a  sight  to 
make  angels  weep !  I  shall  take  you  right  away  from  the 
whole  thing,  and  talk  to  you — that's  all.  Is  that  good 
enough  ? " 

"  Quite  good  enough ! " 

He  scanned  an  open  programme  with  perplexed  interest, 
as  though  it  were  an  Egyptian  hieroglyph. 

"  How  long  do  each  of  these  things  last  ? "  he  asked, 
with  evident  amusement. 

"About  twelve  minutes,  with  the  pause." 

"  What's  the  good  of  twelve  minutes  ?  Can't  I  have 
them  in  batches,  three  at  a  time.  Or  would  that  be  going 
quite  out  of  bounds  ? " 

Honor  laughed.  ..."  I'm  afraid  so  !  Though  it  would 
be  far  nicer.  But  I  will  give  you  one  '  batch,'  and  two 
isolated  ones ;  and  that's  a  generous  allowance,  I  assure 
you." 

"  Thanks.  —  I  suppose  Desmond  takes  you  in  to 
supper  ? " 

"  Yes.  It's  a  standing  engagement !  Why  don't  you 
ask  Miss  Maurice  ? "  There  was  a  moment  of  silence. 

"  We  are  not  intimate  enough  for  that,"  he  answered, 
with  a  bad  imitation  of  unconcern  ;  and  Honor  wondered, 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  73 

as  she  had  done  before  now,  wherein  lay  the  key  to  a 
curiosity -pro voking  situation.  But  just  then  Desmond 
joined  them;  and  no  more  was  said. 

The  moment  they  entered  the  ballroom  Lenox  was 
aware  of  his  wife, — the  focal  point  in  a  circle  of  men, 
distributing  her  favours  with  a  smiling  impartiality  that 
was,  in  itself,  a  delicate  form  of  coquetry,  while  Garth 
stood  sentinel  beside  her,  with  an  unmistakable  sug- 
gestion of  '  No  Thoroughfare,'  which  he  could  assume  to 
a  nicety;  and  which  Lenox  noted  with  a  curse  at  the 
restrictions  imposed  upon  civilised  man. 

But  a  second  glance  at  Quita  crowded  all  else  out  of 
his  mind.  It  was  his  first  sight  of  her  in  full  evening 
dress,  and  he  stood  spellbound  by  the  radiant  quality  of 
her  charm :  a  charm  that  triumphed  over  minor  imper- 
fections of  feature  and  form;  a  mental  and  spiritual 
vitality  that  had  deepened  rather  than  diminished  with 
the  years.  Her  dress,  like  everything  about  her,  was  an 
instinctive  expression  of  herself :  though  Lenox,  while 
appreciating  its  harmony,  could  not  have  defined  it  in  set 
terms.  He  knew  that  it  was  of  velvet ;  that  it  sheathed 
her  rounded  slenderness  as  a  rind  sheathes  its  fruit ;  that 
the  light  and  shade  on  its  surface,  as  she  moved,  reminded 
him  of  willows  in  a  wind ;  that,  from  shoulder  to  hem, 
the  eye  was  nowhere  checked,  the  simplicity  of  outline 
nowhere  marred  by  objectless  incidents  of  adornment. 
He  noted  also  that  its  indefinite  colour  was  repeated  in  a 
row  of  aquamarines,  that  glistened  like  drops  of  sea-water 
at  her  throat. 

A  light  touch  on  his  arm  recalled  him  to  outward 
things. 

"  Captain  Lenox,  where  are  your  manners  ? "  Honor 
Desmond  remonstrated,  with  laughter  in  her  eyes.  "  The 
Mayhews  have  just  gone  past,  and  you  looked  straight 
through  them !  Is  that  the  way  you  welcome  your 
guests  ? " 

He  muttered  an  incoherent  apology,  and  fervently 
hoped  that  she  had  not  observed  the  direction  of  his  gaze. 
A  vain  hope,  seeing  thab  she  was  a  woman  ! 

"  Better  get  safe  into  the  card-room  before  I  do  any- 


74  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

thing  worse ! "  he  added  uneasily.  "  I'll  be  back  for 
number  five.  Trust  me  not  to  forget." 

As  he  crossed  the  barn  of  a  room, — lavishly  draped 
with  bazaar  bunting,  and  starred  with  radiating  bayonets, 
— his  eyes  lighted  on  Kenneth  Malcolm,  the  Engineer 
subaltern,  whose  current  of  courtship  had  been  checked 
by  Maurice's  arrival  on  the  scene  : — a  boy  of  stalwart 
build;  his  straight  features  and  well-poised  head  justi- 
fying the  sobriquet  of  Apollo,  bestowed  upon  him  by  an 
effusive  admirer,  whose  sole  reward  had  been  a  cordial 
detestation.  He  leaned  against  the  wall,  absently  twirl- 
ing the  cord  of  his  programme ;  his  attention  centred  on 
a  corner  of  the  room,  where  Elsie  Mayhew — an  incarnate 
moonbeam  of  a  girl — was  critically  examining  the  pattern 
on  her  fan,  while  Maurice  possessed  himself  of  her  pro- 
gramme, and  sprinkled  it  liberally  with  the  letter  M. 
In  the  boy's  bottled-up  resentment  Lenox  saw  a  reflection 
of  his  own  ;  and  the  fact  moved  him  to  scorn  rather  than 
sympathy. 

"Damned  idiots,  both  of  us!"  he  reflected  savagely. 
"  A  couple  of  dogs  whose  bones  have  been  confiscated, 
and  we  haven't  even  the  pluck  to  snarl." 

The  opening  valse  struck  up  as  he  reached  the  card- 
room.  Without  looking  directly  at  his  wife,  he  saw 
Garth's  arm  encircle  her  waist,  saw  him  hold  her  thus,  for 
an  appreciable  moment,  before  starting ;  and  sat  down  to 
the  whist  table  with  murder  in  his  heart. 

At  number  five  he  re-entered  the  ballroom  to  claim 
Honor  Desmond  for  his  'batch'  of  dances,  and  to  take 
her,  as  he  had  said,  right  away  from  it  all.  She  found 
him  little  inclined  for  talk;  yet  none  the  less  quick  to 
appreciate  her  understanding  of  his  mood. 

"  Thank  you  for  bearing  with  me,"  he  said,  as  they 
parted  in  one  of  the  many  doorways  opening  on  to  the 
long  verandah.  "  I  won't  come  in.  I  am  in  the  hum- 
our for  the  profound  philosophies  of  tobacco  and  the 
stars." 

"  Better  companions  than  a  mere  woman  ! "  she  an- 
swered, smiling  into  the  gravity  of  his  eyes.  "  Don't  deny 
it.  I  have  no  taste  for  lip  service." 

"  Nor  I  the  smallest  gift  for  it.     Still,  truth  is  truth  ; 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  75 

and  a  good  deal  depends  on  the  quality  of — the  mere 
woman." 

She  vouchsafed  him  the  stateliest  shadow  of  a  curtsey. 

"  I  believe  I  shall  end  in  converting  you,  after  all ! 
Number  twelve.  Don't  forget." 

And  turning  from  him  she  saw  that  her  husband  stood 
a  few  paces  off,  watching  them  with  a  thoughtful  scrutiny 
that  caught  at  her  heart.  Gliding  across  the  polished 
floor,  she  slipped  a  hand  under  his  elbow,  and  leaned 
close  to  him. 

"Darling,"  she  whispered,  "I  am  so  glad  this  is  ours." 
Without  a  word,  he  put  his  arm  round  her,  and  swept  her 
into  the  crowd. 

For  a  while  Lenox  followed  them  with  his  eyes,  as  they 
circled  smoothly  in  and  out  among  the  dancers,  as  notable 
a  couple  as  the  room  contained.  Then  he  raked  the 
shifting  crowd  for  Quita's  grey-green  figure, — in  vain. 
Neither  she  nor  Garth  was  to  be  seen.  It  needed  small 
perspicacity  to  locate  them :  and  grinding  his  teeth  Lenox 
went  out  again  into  a  night  jewelled  with  the  unnumbered 
bonfires  of  the  universe.  Striking  a  match,  he  lit  his 
pipe,  in  defiance  of  the  knowledge  that  for  the  past  few 
weeks  he  had  been  persistently  overstepping  his  self- 
imposed  allowance,  and  fell  to  pacing  the  railed  path 
outside  the  building. 

Was  it  altogether  his  own  fault,  he  wondered  bitterly, 
that  he  stood  thus,  cut  off  from  the  core  of  life,  breaking 
his  teeth  upon  the  husks  of  it,  and  making  believe  that 
they  satisfied  his  hunger?  In  the  tragedies  resulting 
from  '  the  ill-judged  execution  of  the  well-judged  plan  of 
things,'  that  question  flung,  again  and  again  into  the 
'  derisive  silence  of  eternity,'  mocks  the  soul  with  echo's 
answer.  Where  lies  the  blame  ?  Where,  indeed  ?  For 
all  his  vaunted  supremacy  man  is  not  always  master  of 
his  fate.  Circumstance,  heredity,  the  despicable  trifle, 
the  inexpert  finger,  which  a  certain  type  of  human  is 
so  zealous  to  thrust  into  an  alien  life,  compass  him  about 
with  a  cloud  of  witnesses  to  his  own  impotence. 

With  which  conclusion,  softened  by  the  kindly  influ- 
ence of  drugged  tobacco,  Lenox  knocked  the  ashes  out  of 
his  pipe ;  and  decided  that  since  he  was  here  to  observe 


76  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

his  wife  and  Garth,  and  to  cure  himself  of  an  undignified 
infatuation,  it  would  be  well  to  return  to  the  ballroom 
till  number  twelve. 

But  as  he  moved  forward  a  low  laugh,  near  at  hand, 
chained  him  to  the  spot.  Then  Quita  emerged  from  a 
patch  of  shadow,  closely  followed  by  Garth.  She  tilted 
her  chin,  and  flung  a  smiling  threat  at  him  over  her 
shoulder. 

"  If  you  can't  be  more  reasonable,  I  shall  cancel  your 
remaining  dances  and  give  them  to  the  Eiley  boy." 
Which  announcement  brought  him  swiftly  to  her  side; 
and  Lenox  failed  to  catch  his  murmured  reply.  They 
passed  on  without  perceiving  him ;  and  he  followed  .  .  . 
merely  from  a  sense  of  duty  ! 

At  one  of  the  open  doorways,  that  flung  panels  of  light 
across  the  verandah,  they  paused  ;  and  he  paused  also,  a 
few  paces  off'.  The  couples  within  were  forming  them- 
selves into  ordered  squares. 

"  Lancers,"  she  said,  in  a  tone  of  distaste. 

"  Are  you  dancing  them  ? "  he  asked. 

"No." 

"  Come  and  sit  out  again,  then ;  and  I'll  be  as  reason- 
able as  you  please." 

She  glanced  quickly  round  the  room,  as  if  in  search  of 
something. 

"  Very  well,"  she  said :  and  turning  on  the  threshold, 
came  face  to  face  with  her  husband. 

With  a  scarcely  perceptible  start,  she  acknowledged  his 
grave  bow  of  recognition,  and  drew  back  to  let  him  pass. 
But  he  remained  close  enough  to  catch  what  followed. 

"  I'd  rather  dance  than  sit  out,  after  all,"  she  announced, 
with  a  brisk  change  of  manner. 

"  But,  dear  lady,  .  .  .  why  ? " 

She  laughed.  "  What  a  question !  I  thought  you 
pretended  to  know  something  about  women  ?  I  claim  the 
divine  right  of  whim.  Voilh  tout !  One  can't  spend  the 
evening  in  explanation.  The  spirit  moves  me  to  romp. 
It's  infinitely  more  wholesome  than  mooning  under  the 
stars.  All  we  want  now  is  a  cheery  vis-d-vis.  Ah  .  .  . 
there's  Michel.  The  very  man  ! " 

She  signalled  across  the  room  with  her  fan,  and  Michael 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  77 

came  skidding  and  slithering  towards  her,  a  delighted  girl 
clinging  to  his  arm : — a  girl  in  the  glamour  of  her  first 
season,  a-thrill  to  her  white  kid  finger-tips  because  these 
rested  on  the  sleeve  of  a  living  artist,  who  had  already 
paid  her  one  or  two  chivalry-coated  compliments. 

"  Now  why  the  deuce  did  she  weather-cock  round  like 
that  ? "  Lenox  wondered,  floundering  in  the  quicksands 
of  masculine  ignorance. 

But  no  answer  suggested  itself ;  because  this  woman, 
who  was  his,  and  yet  not  his, — this  woman,  with  her 
many-hued  personality,  rich  in  subtle  contradictions — was 
a  sealed  book  to  him,  and  seemed  like  to  remain  so. 
And  what,  after  all,  are  the  hearts  that  beat  closest  to  our 
own  but  sealed  books,  which  we  open  from  time  to  time, 
at  random ;  too  often  at  the  wrong  page  ?  But  a  ballroom 
is  no  fit  place  for  abstract  meditation.  The  lust  of 
eye  and  ear,  the  pride  of  life,  challenge  the  sense  at 
every  turn,  till  mere  thought  seems  a  mighty  bloodless 
affair. 

Lenox  moved  back  to  the  doorway,  leaned  against  the 
woodwork,  and  folding  his  arms,  surveyed  the  scene 
before  him  with  the  apathetic  interest  of  the  large  and 
mystified.  The  long  room  was  crowded  with  jumbled 
atoms  of  colour,  like  a  damaged  kaleidoscope  ;  with  talk 
and  laughter ;  with  the  whisper  of  sweeping  skirts,  and 
the  clink  of  spurs.  Then  the  first  provocative  bars  set 
every  foot  in  motion;  and  the  kaleidoscope  effect  was 
complete. 

Lenox, — towering  isolated,  amid  a  world  of  light-hearted 
couples, — was  aware  that  beneath  his  surface  indifference 
there  lurked  a  certain  shamefaced  envy  of  these  bewilder- 
ing mortals  who  could  shuffle  off  the  years,  and  revert, 
unabashed,  to  the  entrancing  follies  of  childhood ;  and 
who  could  yet,  in  lucid  intervals,  grapple  undismayed 
with  intricacies  of  Indian  legislation,  lead  a  forlorn 
hope,  love  and  suffer  and  die,  if  need  be,  with  a  stiff  lip, 
and  an  obstinate  faith  in  '  the  ultimate  decency  of  things.' 
For  of  a  truth,  the  earth  holds  no  more  fantastic  farrago 
of  folly  and  heroism  than  your  average  human  being : 
and  musing  on  these  things,  Lenox  decided  that  there 
must  have  been  some  radical  flaw  in  his  own  education. 


78  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

Not  twenty  feet  away,  the  General  himself — the  host- 
in-chief  of  the  evening — condemned,  despite  increasing 
years  and  girth,  to  the  Eton  jacket  of  boyhood,  pranced 
and  glided  with  elaborate  precision,  and  took  every 
opportunity  of  twirling  plump  little  Mrs  Mayhew  almost 
off  her  feet.  Both  laughed  inordinately  at  each  repetition 
of  the  mild  joke :  and  if  the  C.B.  blazing  on  the  General's 
mess-jacket,  and  the  little  lady's  full-grown  daughter  con- 
trasted oddly  with  their  passing  display  of  childishness, 
both  were  serenely  blind  to  the  fact. 

But  among  a  hundred  dancers,  not  one  plunged  more 
whole-heartedly  into  the  folly  of  the  moment  than  Quita. 
She  had  stationed  herself  opposite  the  door  where  Lenox 
stood,  and  the  very  spirit  of  devilry  seemed  to  have  entered 
into  her,  driving  her  to  italicise  every  trait  in  herself  that 
must  needs  grate  on  his  fastidiousness  where  a  woman's 
conduct  was  concerned.  Her  effervescent  gaiety  domin- 
ated the  '  set,'  which  speedily  degenerated  into  a  romp ; 
till,  in  the  third  figure,  an  incident  occurred  which  partially 
brought  her  to  her  senses. 

The  room  reeled  and  hummed  with  spinning  circles, 
like  living  Katherine- wheels,  when  Quita,  —  losing  her 
precarious  hold  upon  her  partner's  coat-sleeve,  and  flying 
outward,  by  a  natural  impetus  that  must  have  sent  her 
crashing  against  the  woodwork  of  the  door, — found  herself 
caught,  and  steadied  by  her  husband's  hands  at  her  waist. 
For  a  lightning  instant  he  held  her  thus — breathless  and 
throbbing,  like  a  bird  prisoned  in  his  grasp:  then  he 
straightened  himself,  and  let  fall  his  empty  hands. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  he  muttered,  barely  looking  at  her.  "  But 
I  was  afraid  you  might  hurt  yourself." 

"  Thank  you.     It  was  very  stupid  of  me." 

She  left  him  hurriedly,  red-hot  vexation  tingling  in  her 
cheeks  :  and  when  next  the  Katherine- wheels  spun  about, 
she  remained  stationary,  smiling  and  waving  her  hand  in 
answer  to  repeated  invitations  to  "  come  on." 

Lenox  remained  stationary  also,  though  the  whole  scene 
had  suddenly  become  hateful  to  him :  for  that  moment  of 
contact,  and  the  rush  of  colour  to  his  wife's  face,  had  roused 
him  to  the  need  for  immediate  action.  Thus,  when  a  final 
mad  galop  scattered  the  coherent  atoms  of  the  kaleido- 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  *79 

scope,  he  intercepted  Quita  and  her  partner,  as  they 
hurried  out  to  secure  a  favourite  nook. 

But  the  polite  formula  of  the  ballroom  did  not  spring 
readily  to  his  lips. 

"  Have  you  a  spare  dance  to  give  me  ? "  he  asked  bluntly. 
"  Since  you  evidently  don't  object  to  sitting  out." 

His  tone  had  in  it  more  of  demand  than  of  request,  an 
effect  heightened  by  his  deliberate  omission  of  her  name ; 
and  against  his  will  annoyance  lurked  in  the  last  words. 
But  some  men  have  a  positive  talent  for  standing  in  their 
own  light. 

For  a  second  or  two  her  eyes  challenged  his  in  mute 
amazement.  Each  seemed  trying  to  read  the  other's 
thought.  But  pride  darkens  insight :  and  at  the  critical 
moment  a  slight  movement  of  the  arm  she  held  reminded 
her  of  Garth's  glimpse  behind  the  scenes.  She  pulled 
herself  together,  and  made  an  obvious  feint  of  consulting 
her  programme. 

"If  you  really  wanted  one,  you  should  have  spoken 
earlier,"  she  rebuked  him  lightly.  "  I'm  afraid  I  haven't 
so  much  as  half  an  extra  to  offer  you  now." 

He  accepted  his  dismissal  with  a  curt  bow  of  acknow- 
ledgment. 

"  Thought  I  wanted  to  make  love  to  her,  no  doubt,"  he 
reflected  savagely,  as  he  moved  away.  And  she  passed  on 
into  the  verandah,  wondering  .  .  .  wondering  why  he  had 
wanted  that  dance,  and  whether  she  would  have  thrown 
some  one  over  for  him,  but  for  Garth's  opportune  reminder 
at  her  elbow. 

On  the  opening  of  the  next  dance,  Lenox  sought  and 
found  Honor  Desmond,  silently  offered  his  arm,  and  led 
her  through  the  verandah  out  into  the  starshine, — which 
is  a  reality  in  India,  on  moonless  nights. 

"What  a  thundering  relief  it  is  to  get  away  from  it 
all ! "  he  said  at  length.  "  Would  it  bother  you  to  stroll  a 
little  way  up  the  hill  ?  We  shall  be  crowded  out  here,  in 
no  time ;  and  I  must  have  another  pipe." 

"  Let's  stroll  then,  by  all  means.  I  should  enjoy  it ;  and 
you  know  how  I  love  tobacco.  I  saw  you  looking  on  at 
that  dance ;  and  I  rather  envied  you.  I  often  wish  I  could 
set  aside  a  few  dances  just  for  looking  on,  without  having 


80  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

to  make  talk  for  any  one.  People  interest  me  so  passion- 
ately ;  always  have  done,  since  I  can  remember." 

"  Even  Button  Quails,  and  black-hearted  woman-haters  ?" 

"  Yes.  Especially  the  woman-haters ;  because  they  need 
converting ! " 

"  And  are  unconvertible,"  Lenox  declared  with  a  laugh. 
"  But  don't  you  ever  get  sickened  with  the  deadly  same- 
ness of  the  whole  tribe  of  us, — grinding  ourselves  to  dust 
in  the  eternal  treadmill  of  hatred  and  love,  hope  and 
despair  ?  Every  conceivable  human  complication  has 
been  repeated  ad  nauseam  since  Adam  made  a  fool  of 
himself  in  the  garden  of  Eden." 

"  And  through  all  that  endless  sameness,  no  two  men 
and  women  have  ever  behaved  twice  alike !  That's  where 
the  interest  comes  in,  don't  you  see?  To-night,  for 
instance,  Miss  Maurice  and  that  pretty  child  Elsie  Mayhew 
are  both  wasting  their  sweetness  on  men  quite  unworthy 
of  them ;  but  each  is  doing  the  same  thing  in  a  fashion  so 
entirely  her  own,  that  it  is  not  like  looking  on  at  the  same 
play  at  all.  I  am  specially  concerned  over  the  Mayhew 
muddle,  for  I  believe  that  handsome  Engineer  boy  is 
capable  of  breaking  his  heart  in  earnest  because  Elsie  has 
lost  hers  pro  tern.,  —  engaging  little  goose  that  she  is. 
Really  I  sometimes  think  that  the  man  and  woman  puzzle 
is  just  an  endless  game  of  cross  questions  and  crooked 
answers ! " 

Lenox  laughed  again,  harshly. 

"  That's  a  straight  shot ! "  he  said.  "  It's  a  mad  world ; 
and  the  maddest  creature  in  it  is  the  man  who  stakes  his 
happiness  on  the  state  of  a  woman's  heart." 

Honor  slipped  her  hand  from  his  arm. 

"  Eeally,  Captain  Lenox,"  she  protested,  half-laughing, 
half  in  earnest,  "  that  remark  almost  amounts  to  an  in- 
sult !  What  do  you  suppose  Theo  would  say  if  he  heard 
you?" 

"  Wouldn't  stop  to  pick  his  language,"  Lenox  answered 
with  a  twisted  smile.  "  But  his  testimony  counts  for 
nothing.  He  has  found  the  one  woman  among  a  thousand, 
that  even  Solomon  failed  to  find ;  and  the  Lord  knows  he 
didn't  judge  them  from  hearsay ! " 

The   sincerity  underlying  his   bluntness   brought   the 


AFTER    FIVE   YEARS.  81 

blood  to  Honor's  cheeks.  "Theo  has  simply  found — a 
woman  who  loves  him,"  she  answered  softly.  "  A  dis- 
covery most  men  can  make  if  they  choose;  even  rank 
heretics  like  you  !  Will  you  forgive  me,  I  wonder,  if  I  say 
that  I  believe  the  thing  you  really  need,  though  you  may 
not  guess  it,  is  ...  a  woman  in  your  life  ? " 

Lenox  did  not  answer :  and  they  walked  on  for  a  time 
in  silence. 

"  Have  I  vexed  you  ? "  Honor  asked  at  length. 

"No.  You  touched  an  exposed  nerve.  That  was  all. 
And  I  should  like  you  to  know  the  truth  now';  or  at  least 
part  of  it. — Five  years  ago  I  did  take  ...  a  woman 
into  my  life,  as  you  put  it ;  and  I  have  never  known  real 
peace  or  comfort  since." 

Honor  started,  and  turned  upon  him  a  face  of  incredulity. 

"  Captain  Lenox !  Do  you  mean — have  you  actually — 
been  married  ? " 

"  I  actually  am  married,  in  the  eyes  of  the  law,  at  least. 
What's  more,  my  wife  is  here,  in  Dalhousie,  in  that  cursed 
ballroom, — with  neither  my  name  nor  my  ring  to  protect 
her — playing  the  fool  for  the  amusement  or  perdition  of 
another  chap.  You  spoke  of  her  a  minute  ago.  I  need 
hardly  say  more,  need  I  ? " 

"No,  no.  I  understand  it  all  now,"  she  murmured, 
deeply  moved.  "  Then  that  was  why  you  wanted  to  go 
away  last  month?" 

"Yes." 

"  And  I  stupidly  made  things  harder,  in  my  blind  zeal 
to  help  you  ? " 

"  No,  indeed.  You  simply  convinced  me,  without  sus- 
pecting it,  that  it  would  be  cowardly  to  bolt  at  sight. 
Besides,  it  would  have  amounted  to  an  open  confession 
that — one  cared." 

"  And  don't  you — care  ? " 

Lenox  clenched  his  teeth  upon  an  inarticulate  sound ; 
and  his  amber  mouthpiece  snapped  like  a  stick  of  sealing- 
wax.  He  took  the  pipe  from  his  mouth ;  eyed  it  ruefully, 
and  slipped  it  into  his  breast-pocket. 

"A  good  friend  gone,"  he  muttered.  "And  all  on 
account  of  a  woman  who  doesn't  care  a  snap  of  the  fingers 
whether  one  is  alive  or  dead." 


82  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  In  my  opinion  that  remains  to  be  proved." 

"Does  it?  Isn't  her  conduct  with  that  confounded 
ladykiller  proof  enough  to  convince  you?" 

"  No." 

"  Well,  then,  look  here.  Ten  minutes  ago  I  went  so  far 
as  to  ask  her  for  a  dance.  She  gave  me  the  snub  direct : 
and  she'll  not  get  a  chance  to  refuse  another  request  of 
mine — that's  certain." 

Honor's  lips  lifted  at  the  corners. 

"  I  wonder  what  tone  of  voice  you  asked  her  in  ? "  was 
all  she  said. 

"  Quite  the  wrong  one,  no  doubt.  I  was  in  no  humour 
for  going  on  my  knees.  But  she  knew  right  enough  that 
I  wouldn't  have  risked  refusal,  unless  I  was  very  keen  on 
the  dance." 

"  All  the  same,  you  will  give  her  another  chance.  You 
must.  No  act  of  folly  on  her  part  can  make  it  right  for 
you  to  leave  her  in  such  a  false  position." 

"  The  position  was  her  own  choice, — not  mine." 

"  One  could  guess  as  much.  Yet  the  fact  remains  that 
she  is — yours,  to  make  or  mar:  and  it  seems  to  me  no 
less  than  your  duty  to  pocket  your  pride,  and  save  her 
from  her  own  foolishness  in  spite  of  herself." 

Lenox  drew  an  audible  breath,  like  a  man  in  pain. 

"  You  do  know  how  to  hit  between  the  eyes,"  he  said 
very  low.  "  But — I  have  suffered  enough  at  her  hands." 

"  And  has  she  suffered  nothing — at  yours  ? " 

Honor's  voice  was  scarcely  louder  than  his  own,  and  her 
pulses  throbbed  at  her  own  daring.  Lenox  stood  stock- 
still,  and  looked  at  her. 

"Upon  .  .  my  .  .  soul,"  he  said  slowly,  "you  are  a 
stunning  woman  !  I  ..." 

"Please  don't  think  I  meant  you  to  answer  such  a 
question,"  she  broke  in  hurriedly,  with  flaming  cheeks. 

"  Of  course  not.  You  meant  it  as  a  reminder  that  there 
are  two  sides  to  every  question." 

"Yes.  How  nice  of  you  to  understand!  I  have  no 
shadow  of  right  to  take  you  to  task.  But  when  the  fate 
of  two  lives  seems  hanging  on  a  thread,  one  dare  not  keep 
silence. — Now,  I  think  we  ought  to  turn  back.  And  I 
wonder  if  you  would  mind  telling  me  a  little  about  .  . 


AFTER    FIVE   YEARS.  83 

your  wife,"  she  added,  with  diplomatic  intent  to  prolong 
his  softened  mood.  "  She  is  so  charming ;  so  individual. 
But  I  haven't  been  able  to  get  at  her  at  all.  She  seems 
almost  to  dislike  me ;  and  I  am  just  beginning  to  guess 
why." 

"Nonsense  .  .  .  nonsense,"  he  protested  brusquely. 
"You  are  entirely  mistaken." 

"  That  also  remains  to  be  proved ! " 

They  retraced  their  steps  down  the  rough  path  that 
descends  from  the  Mall  to  the  Assembly  Rooms,  walking 
very  slowly,  as  people  do  when  absorbed.  Honor,  with  all 
a  woman's  skill,  imparted  a  flavour  of  reminiscence  to  their 
talk ;  and  no  man  with  a  spark  of  love  in  his  heart  can 
hold  out,  for  long,  against  the  magic  suggestiveness  of 
memory.  For  all  his  guarded  indifference  of  manner,  she 
felt  the  ice  melting  under  her  touch :  and  the  passionate 
human  interest,  of  which  she  had  already  spoken,  held  her, 
to  exclusion  of  such  minor  trivialities  as  possibly  distracted 
partners.  For  this  woman,  the  human  note, — be  it  never 
so  untuneful — surpassed  the  sublimest  music  plucked  from 
the  heart  of  wood  or  wire. 

Arrived  on  the  gravel  ledge  outside  the  building,  they 
paused  in  a  shaft  of  light,  still  intent  on  their  subject ; 
till  the  inspiriting  rhythm  of  a  polka  shattered  the  still- 
ness ;  and  Honor,  turning  hastily,  caught  sight  of  an  erect 
figure  in  the  doorway  behind  her. 

"  There's  Theo.  He  seems  to  be  looking  for  me,"  she 
said.  "  Why,  we  must  have  talked  through  two  dances. 
Come." 

But  at  the  foot  of  the  verandah  steps  Lenox  held  out 
his  hand. 

"The  evening  is  ended] for  me.  I  am  going  straight 
home,  to  think  over  all  you  have  said.  I'll  be  round  by 
ten  to-morrow.  Good-night — and  thank  you." 

He  italicised  the  last  words  by  a  vigorous  hand- clasp ; 
and  a  moment  later  she  stood  in  the  doorway,  confronting 
her  husband.  A  glance  at  his  face  put  her  laughing 
apology  to  flight. 

"I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Honor,"  he  broke  out  hotly, 
"  you're  going  too  far  altogether.  Here  has  Maurice  been 
letting  half  Dalhousie  know  that  he  couldn't  find  you 


84  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

anywhere ;  and  the  last  dance  —  was  mine.  Heaven 
knows  where  you  buried  yourselves.  I  didn't  attempt  to 
look.  Lenox  has  no  business  to  monopolise  you  in  this 
way.  Woman-hater,  indeed ! " 

"  It  was  not  his  fault,"  she  flashed  out,  in  an  impulse 
more  generous  than  wise :  but  her  blood  was  as  quick  to 
take  fire  as  his  own. 

"  Then  it  was  yours,  which  is  fifty  times  worse." 

Honor  lifted  her  head  with  a  superb  dignity  of  gesture. 

"As  you  please,"  she  said  quietly.  "It  is  useless  to 
attempt  explanation  here,  or  anywhere,  till  you  are  more 
.  .  like  yourself." 

Eeturning  couples  were  by  now  besieging  the  door- 
way ;  and  she  passed  on  into  the  ballroom,  her  head  still 
high,  her  lips  compressed,  lest  others  should  note  their 
tendency  to  quiver.  A  woman  who  loves  the  man  of  her 
choice  with  every  fibre  of  her  being  does  not  readily 
forget,  though  she  may  forgive,  his  first  rough  words  to 
her. 

Honor  was  claimed  at  once  by  Kenneth  Malcolm,  a 
favourite  partner,  boy  though  he  was.  But  the  keen  edge 
of  her  interest  was  blunted.  She  wanted  one  thing  only : 
to  be  alone  with  Theo ;  to  set  his  mind  at  rest :  and  those 
'separated  selves,'  who  drew  her  like  nothing  else  on 
earth,  became  of  a  sudden  mere  voluble  obstructions 
between  herself  and  her  desire. 

Half  an  hour  later  she  came  up  to  him,  where  he  stood, 
laughing  and  talking  in  a  group  of  men. 

"  I  am  tired,  Theo,"  she  said  in  a  low  tone.  "  Mr 
Maurice  is  getting  my  dandy  for  me.  But  don't  come 
away  if  you'd  rather  stop  on." 

Their  eyes  locked  for  an  instant. 

"  Is  that  likely  ? "  he  asked,  a  gleam  in  his  own. 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  You  do  know.     Look  sharp  and  get  your  things  on." 

Michael  Maurice  did  not  hurry  himself  over  the  con- 
genial task  of  settling  his  dtesse  veritable  among  the 
cushions  of  her  dandy, — a  hybrid  conveyance,  half  canoe, 
half  cane  lounge,  slung  from  the  shoulders  of  four  men, 
by  an  ingenious  arrangement  of  straps  and  cross  poles. 
Closer  acquaintance  had  deepened  his  admiration :  but  a 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  85 

nameless  something  in  her  manner  warned  him  that  it 
must  not  be  expressed  in  his  usual  promiscuous  fashion. 
She  had  refused,  very  sweetly  but  decisively,  the  honour 
of  appearing  in  his  great  picture.  But  Desmond  had 
succumbed  to  the  temptation  of  procuring  a  portrait  of 
her  and  '  little  Paul.'  "  At  the  worst,  I  can  sell  a  pony  to 
pay  for  it,"  he  had  said,  in  answer  to  her  remonstrance. 
"  And  I  shall  think  it  cheap  at  the  price  ! " 

And  now,  as  the  dandy  -  bearers  turned  to  mount  the 
ascent,  he  came  to  his  wife's  side.  She  had  drawn  off  her 
gloves,  and  one  hand  rested  on  the  woodwork  of  her  canoe. 
He  covered  it  with  his  own,  walking  by  her  thus,  for  a 
few  steps,  in  silence :  and  it  was  enough. 

"  Mount  now,"  she  commanded  him  softly.  "  And  let's 
hurry  home.  I've  ever  so  much  to  tell  you." 

He  obeyed:  and  they  journeyed  upward  to  familiar 
music  of  hoof -beats,  and  the  murmur  of  jhampannies, 
wrapt  about  by  the  magic  of  a  night  so  still  that  all  the 
winds  seemed  to  have  gone  round  with  the  sun  to  the 
other  side  of  the  world. 

A  tray  set  with  glass  and  silver  awaited  them  in  the 
drawing-room. 

Honor,  entering  first,  slipped  the  long  cloak  from  her 
shoulders  with  a  satisfied  sigh,  a  sense  of  passing  from 
the  unreal  to  the  real,  which  she  often  experienced  on 
returning  from  a  dance :  and  underlying  all,  a  profound 
pity  for  the  lone  and  ill -mated  women,  in  a  world  of 
oddments  and  misfits,  who  have  never  felt  the  thrill  of 
such  home-comings  as  this  of  hers  to-night.  Then  she 
swept  round,  and  fronted  her  husband: — a  gleaming  figure, 
like  a  statue  cut  in  ivory ;  no  colour  anywhere,  save  the 
living  tints  of  her  face  and  eyes  and  hair. 

"  Well  ? "  she  laughed,  on  a  low  clear  note  of  happiness. 
"  I  hope  you  are  properly  ashamed  of  yourself ! " 

But  before  the  words  were  out,  he  had  her  in  his  arms ; 
and  for  a  supreme  moment  the  great  illusion  was  theirs 
that  they  were  not  two,  but  one,  as  the  Book  decrees. 

Then  she  pushed  him  gently  into  a  chair,  and  kneeling 
beside  him  drew  his  arm  around  her,  resting  her  head 
against  his  in  a  fashion  inexpressibly  tender.  The  natural 
dignity  that  was  hers  set  a  high  value  on  such  sweet 


86  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

familiarities :  and  if  Desmond  submitted  to  them  in  silence, 
it  was  because  the  man  in  him  was  too  deeply  moved  for 
speech. 

Then  she  told  him,  at  some  length,  all  that  she  had 
gleaned  of  the  past  and  present  relations  between  Lenox 
and  his  wife. 

"  Now,  do  you  see  how  I  came  to  lose  sight  of  every- 
thing for  the  time  being  ? "  she  concluded,  smiling  up  at 
him.  "  So  far  as  I  can  gather,  things  seem  to  be  at  a 
deadlock,  unless  one  can  persuade  him  to  take  the  first 
step  forward." 

"And  you  want  to  play  Providence,  as  usual?  Is 
that  it  ? " 

"  Don't  laugh  at  me,  Theo  !  I  am  in  earnest.  I  would 
gladly  move  heaven  and  earth  to  put  things  straight 
between  them." 

"  But  this  seems  a  case  of  moving  a  Scot.  A  far  tougher 
job,  I  can  tell  you ! " 

"  Well,  I  think  I  moved  him  a  little  to-night ;  and  he  is 
coming  round  to-morrow  for  a  ride."  Desmond  frowned ; 
and  she  made  haste  to  add :  "  Now  that  is  just  where  I 
must  have  your  co-operation,  Theo,  or  I  can  do  nothing. 
I  want  you  to  trust  me,  and  give  me  a  free  hand  for  these 
next  few  weeks.  Will  you,  .  .  please  ? " 

"  Does  that  mean  I  am  to  let  you  be  about  with  Lenox 
as  much  as  you  choose  ? " 

"  Probably  not  more  than  I  have  been  so  far.  I  only 
want  to  be  sure  that  whatever  I  do  you  won't  speak  to 
me  again  as  you  did  to-night." 

She  felt  the  muscles  of  his  arm  tighten. 

"I  think  you  may  feel  sure  of  that  much,"  he  said. 
"But  you  are  asking  a  very  hard  thing  of  me,  Honor. 
Lenox  is  a  thorough  good  chap ;  and  I  don't  want  to  be 
driven  into  disliking  him.  It  isn't  as  if  I  were  a  saint, 
like  Paul.  I'm  just  a  man,  and  a  grasping  one  at  that ! 
What's  more,  I  am  very  jealous  for  you ;  and  I  have  the 
right  to  be.  Society  doesn't  recognise  philanthropic 
motives.  It  takes  you  and  your  acts  at  their  face 
value  ..." 

"I  know,  I  know," — she  straightened  herself  impul- 
sively ;  her  hands  clasped ;  her  bare  arms  laid  across  his 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  87 

knees.  "And  I'll  be  ever  so  circumspect,  dearest,  I 
promise  you.  But  oh,  Theo,  .  .  .  don't  you  understand  ? 
It  is  just  because  we  are  so  blessedly  happy,  you  and  I, 
that  the  thought  of  what  those  two  foolish  people  are 
missing  troubles  me  so  sorely." 

Such  an  appeal  was  irresistible.  They  had  lived  deeply 
enough,  these  two,  to  know  the  real  importance  of 
happiness. 

"  Bless  your  big  heart,"  he  answered  warmly.  "  I  under- 
stand right  enough.  By  all  means  help  'em  if  you  can. 
I'll  not  baulk  you.  But  it's  a  delicate  task ;  and  I  don't 
quite  see  how  you  are  going  to  set  about  it." 

"  Nor  do  I, — yet.  One  can  only  trust  to  intuition,  and 
the  inspiration  of  the  moment.  From  the  little  he  said, 
it  seems  that  the  first  move  ought  to  come  from  her :  and 
possibly  my  intimacy  with  him  may  help  to  bring  her  to 
her  senses.  Everything  depends,  of  course,  on  how  much 
she  cares.  That's  still  an  unknown  quantity.  But  she 
dislikes  me  already ;  which  is  a  promising  sign  ! — Now  I 
am  going  to  fill  your  pipe,  and  pour  you  out  a  peg ;  and 
we'll  enjoy  ourselves  till  it's  time  for  second  supper!" 

It  is  just  such  quiet  hours  of  heart-to-heart  intimacy 
that  constitute  true  marriage.  For  in  these  uneventful 
moments  links  are  forged  and  soldered  strong  enough  to 
resist  the  buffeting  of  storms,  or  the  deadlier,  corrosive 
influence  of  those  minor  miseries  which  poison  the  very 
core  of  life. 

A  handful  of  stars — visible  through  the  open  glass  door 
into  the  verandah — had  began  to  pale,  when  Desmond 
lifted  his  wife  to  her  feet,  and  blew  out  the  lamp.  In  the 
profound  stillness  their  footsteps  and  low  laughter  sounded 
up  the  wooden  stairs.  Then  a  door  shut  somewhere  in 
the  house,  and  the  night  absorbed  them  into  herself. 


88  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

"  Ce  n'est  pas  le  mort  qui  separe  le  plus  les  individus." 

— DE   C00LKVAIN. 

AND  what  of  Lenox,  after  Honor  Desmond's  sympathetic 
exertions  on  his  behalf  ? 

He  went  straight  from  her  side  to  the  cloak-room ;  and 
thence  slowly  back  to  his  unhomelike  rooms  at  the  hotel ; 
a  dark  solitary  figure,  with  bent  head,  and  a  heart  full  of 
tumultuous  hopes  and  fears.  The  events  of  the  evening 
had  stirred  him  as  he  had  not  been  stirred  since  those 
early  days  of  torment,  of  undignified  oscillation  between 
yearning  and  despair :  and  now,  at  last,  love  unsteadied 
for  the  first  time  the  foundations  of  his  pride ;  brought 
home  to  him  the  cardinal  truth  that  all  the  beauty  and 
terror  of  life  spring  from  the  inexorable  law  of  duality 
that  links  man  and  woman,  act  and  consequence,  with  the 
same  passionless  unconcern. 

All  the  way  up  the  hill,  this  man — who  loved  night 
and  her  manifestations  as  most  men  love  the  morning — 
had  no  thought  to  spare  for  the  splendour  of  the  heavens 
or  the  shrouded  majesty  of  earth,  so  absorbed  was  he  in 
framing  and  rejecting  possible  letters  to  his  wife,  who,  for 
all  he  knew,  had  already  half-lost  her  heart  to  another  man. 

The  small  sitting-room  where  Brutus,  the  faithful, 
awaited  his  coming,  was  more  or  less  a  replica  of  his  larger 
one  at  Dera  Ishmael :  the  chronically  disordered  table, 
books,  pipes,  sketches,  his  inseparable  friends,  the  bull- 
terrier,  and  the  brown  tobacco-jar.  All  these,  the  familiars 
of  his  lonely  hours,  gave  him  silent  greeting  as  he  crossed 
the  threshold.  But  for  once  his  spirit  failed  to  respond. 
The  witchery  of  his  wife's  lips  and  eyes ;  the  distracting 
music  of  her  laughter;  that  one  poignant  moment  of 
contact  with  her  living,  palpitating  self,  and  Honor  Des- 
mond's belief  in  an  undreamed-of  possibility,  had  kindled 
the  man's  repressed  passion  as  a  lighted  match  kindles 
dry  powder ;  had  revived  in  him  the  common  human  need, 
which  neither  ambition  nor  work,  however  absorbing,  has 
yet  been  known  to  satisfy. 


AFTER    FIVE   YEARS.  89 

"  My  God,"  he  thought.  "  If  I  believed  I  had  a  ghost 
of  a  chance  to  get  hold  of  her  again,  I'd  go  back  to  that 
infernal  ballroom  this  minute ! " 

He  turned,  as  if  to  carry  out  his  resolve :  but  at  the  last, 
shut  down  the  flood-gates  of  emotion,  fell  back  on  years  of 
self-discipline,  and  told  his  heart  he  was  a  fool.  He  had 
yet  to  learn  that  there  is  a  folly  worth  more  than  all  the 
wisdom  of  philosophers,  the  folly  of  a  man  who  loves  a 
woman  better  than  his  own  soul. 

Going  over  to  the  table,  he  turned  up  the  lamp,  acknow- 
ledged the  ponderous  jubilations  of  Brutus,  and  took  the 
damaged  pipe  out  of  his  pocket.  Then  he  stood  looking 
at  it  thoughtfully,  as  it  lay  in  the  palm  of  his  hand  ;  an 
eloquent  testimony  to  that  which  had  been  starved,  denied, 
trampled  upon  for  years, — with  this  result !  Smiling  half- 
scornfully  at  his  new-found  sentimentalism,  he  put  the 
pieces  into  an  empty  cigarette  tin,  and  thrust  it  into  the 
top  drawer  of  his  table.  As  he  did  so,  a  strange  thought 
invaded  his  mind.  Some  day,  perhaps,  he  would  show  it 
to  her ;  and  how  delightfully  she  would  laugh  at  him  for 
his  pardonable  foolishness ! 

But  in  the  meantime  the  wooing  and  winning  of  her 
still  remained  to  be  achieved;  a  unique  position  for  a 
husband ! 

Absorbed  in  thoughts  evoked  by  the  bare  possibility  of 
success,  Lenox  mechanically  drew  out  his  empty  tobacco- 
pouch,  opened  the  jar,  and  thrust  a  hand  into  its  capacious 
depths. 

Then  he  started  ;  and  two  lines  of  vexation  furrowed 
his  forehead.  For  his  fingers,  descending  in  search  of  the 
good  brown  leaf,  that  was  more  to  him  than  meat  and 
drink,  encountered  only  a  chill  hardness, — the  bottom  of 
the  jar. 

He  had  not  emptied  it  when  filling  his  pouch  that 
morning;  and  being  much  preoccupied  had  not  even 
noticed  how  little  was  left.  Evidently,  during  his  absence, 
a  hotel  servant  had  helped  himself  to  the  remaining  hand- 
ful, and  a  clear  ten  days  must  elapse  before  the  arrival  of 
a  fresh  consignment  from  home. 

He  gathered  up  the  remaining  scraps,  and  gazed  at 
them  blankly.  His  consignments  were  carefully  timed 


90  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

to  overlap  one  another.  By  rights  the  jar  should  have 
contained  quite  a  fortnight's  supply  of  his  elixir  vitae: 
and  it  took  him  one  or  two  seconds  to  grasp  the  full 
significance  of  that  which  had  befallen  him. 

"  Great  Heaven !  I  must  have  been  overdoing  it  like 
blazes  this  last  month,"  he  reflected  grimly.  "  And  how 
about  the  next  ten  days  ? " 

He  stood  aghast  before  that  simple  question,  and  its 
obvious  answer.  It  was  as  if  the  earth  has  opened  under 
his  feet ;  as  if  he  had  suddenly  discovered  that  only  a 
thin  crust  intervened  between  himself  and  the  crater  of 
a  volcano.  And  he  had  travelled  hitherward  blindly ; 
goaded  by  the  threefold  necessity  to  work,  and  sleep, 
and  forget.  Thus,  stealthily,  inexorably,  a  habit  creeps 
upon  a  man ;  enclosing  him  mesh  by  mesh  in  a  network 
imponderable  as  spun  silk,  tenacious  as  steel  wire.  A 
sudden  movement,  a  break  in  the  hypnotic  influence  of 
routine,  and  he  wakes  to  find  himself  prisoned  in  a  web 
of  his  own  weaving. 

Lenox  pushed  aside  the  jar  impatiently,  as  though  it 
were  in  some  way  to  blame ;  and  sank  into  his  chair, 
head  bent,  legs  outstretched ;  the  picture  of  defeat.  All 
his  thoughts  and  hopes  crashed  about  him  in  ruins : 
and  Lenox,  contemplating  the  fragments  with  a  numb 
acquiescence  far  removed  from  resignation,  saw  only  the 
old  maddening  irony  at  work  ;  saw  himself,  standing  yet 
again,  on  the  threshold  of  an  Eden  locked  and  barred 
against  him ;  felt  in  every  nerve  the  grip  of  the  pitiless 
fact,  and  asked  himself  fiercely  :  "  What  next  ? " 

Gradually  thought  penetrated  the  dull  ache  of  rebel- 
lion; and  Memory,  that  capricious  handmaid  of  the  brain, 
unearthed  from  the  rubbish-heap  of  things  forgotten,  an 
incident  of  early  days. 

He  recalled  how,  on  a  certain  night,  after  the  confis- 
cation of  their  candles,  and  a  stern  injunction  from  old 
Ailie  to  speak  "  nae  word  "  till  morning,  his  elder  brother 
— greatly  daring — had  invaded  his  bed,  and  with  lips  set 
close  to  his  ear  had  startled  and  thrilled  him  with  the 
following  announcement : — 

" Listen,  Eldred, — what  do  you  think?  I've  found  out 
at  last  why  Uncle  Jock  won't  tell  about  grandfather,  and 


AFTER    FIVE   YEARS.  91 

why  there's  an  empty  place  in  the  big  album  where  he 
ought  to  be.  Ailie  told  me.  I  bothered  her,  and  bothered 
her,  till  she  said  I  should  hear  it  for  a  warning ;  and  I 
think  you  ought  to  hear  it  for  a  warning  too.  She  says 
grandfather  served  the  East  India  Company  for  forty 
years.  He  was  a  grand  soldier,  and  a  sportsman;  a 
great  tall  man,  like  you  will  be.  Ailie  says  you  'have 
his  face.'  But  he  went  to  hell" — this  in  an  awestruck 
whisper — "  through  eating  too  much  opium,  like  some  of 
the  natives  do  out  there.  I  wonder  if  it's  nice  stuff  to 
eat ;  don't  you  ? " 

To  the  boy  of  ten,  listening  with  rapt  interest,  his 
grandfather's  backsliding  had  sounded  only  a  few  degrees 
more  heinous  than  gormandising  at  Christmas  ;  and  since 
Ailie  had  proved  obdurate  when  pressed,  and  even  bribed 
for  further  information,  the  spark  of  curiosity  had  died 
out  for  lack  of  fuel.  But  to  the  man  of  five-and-thirty, 
racked  with  reawakened  passion,  and  with  a  restless 
irritability,  whose  significance  could  no  longer  be  ignored, 
the  memory  of  his  brother's  whispered  revelation  flashed 
like  a  lightning-streak  across  his  present  dilemma;  leaving 
him  in  the  grasp  of  those  invisible  forces  that  are  the  true 
masters  of  destiny ;  that  must  either  break  or  be  broken 
by  man's  individual  spirit  and  will.  For  some  of  us  the 
struggle  is  conscious ;  for  some  unconscious ;  for  others 
it  never  arises  at  all :  because  only  the  touchstone  of  cir- 
cumstance can  evoke  any  one  of  those  past  lives  whereof 
each  single  life  is  so  mysteriously  compact. 

For  Eldred  Lenox,  imbued  with  his  uncle's  iron  creed, 
the  fight  would,  of  necessity,  be  conscious  and  unremitting. 
But  he  had  no  heart  to  begin  it  yet.  He  felt  as  a  man 
may  feel  who  is  suddenly  struck  blind.  Thought,  move- 
ment, life  itself,  seemed  paralysed  by  a  fear  unnameable, 
and  new ;  the  fear  of  that  other  self,  who  is  the  arch- 
enemy of  us  all. 

One  certainty  alone  stood  out,  like  a  black  headland 
from  a  sea  of  mist;  all  immediate  hope  of  ratifying  his 
marriage  was  at  an  end.  There  spoke  his  tyrannical 
conscience  with  disconcerting  directness :  and  Lenox  had 
never  acquired  the  art  of  disguising  plain  fact  in  a  gar- 
ment of  high-sounding  words.  He  told  himself  straightly 


92  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

that  no  right-minded  man  could  deliberately  risk  handing 
down  to  others  such  a  heritage  of  struggle  and  possible 
failure  as  was  his.  Yet,  in  the  same  breath,  the  Devil 
whispered  a  plausible  reminder  that  men  as  good  as  he 
had  taken  the  risk  time  after  time ;  that  De  Quincey  him- 
self had  followed  passion's  dictates  seemingly  without  a 
twinge  of  self-reproach.  But  Lenox  was  too  single-minded 
to  take  shelter  behind  the  failures  of  others.  For  him  the 
principle  was  all.  For  him  all  thought  of  marriage  must 
be  set  aside,  at  least,  until  he  knew  for  certain  how  com- 
pletely the  subtle  poison  had  entered  into  his  blood. 

"  Thank  God  she  didn't  give  me  the  chance  I  wanted ! " 
he  breathed  in  all  sincerity :  and  flinging  himself  back 
in  his  chair,  he  lay  open-eyed  and  still,  while  night  slipped 
silently  on  toward  morning. 

Brutus  made  one  or  two  attempts  to  attract  his  master's 
attention  by  means  of  a  moist  nose  and  an  urgent  paw ; 
and  failing,  returned  philosophically  to  the  hearth-rug. 

The  lamp  burned  low,  and  lower,  till  the  room  reeked 
with  fumes  of  kerosene.  This  minor  discomfort  roused 
Lenox.  He  lit  two  candles,  blew  out  the  lamp,  and 
throwing  aside  his  mess  jacket,  yawned  and  stretdhed 
himself  extensively.  By  this  time  one  craving  out- 
weighed all  others.  Every  nerve  in  him  ached  for  the 
respite  of  sleep;  and  his  one  chance  lay  in  succumbing 
to  mental  or  physical  exhaustion. 

He  sat  down  to  the  table,  and  took  up  his  pen,  de- 
termined to  write  till  it  dropped  from  his  fingers.  But 
here  also  defeat  confronted  him.  For  although  his  sub- 
conscious brain  was  discomfortably  alert  and  voluble, 
ordered  consecutive  thought  refused  to  come  at  his 
bidding, 

He  gave  it  up  at  length  for  the  simpler  expedient  of 
pacing  to  and  fro  in  the  measured  mechanical  fashion 
most  conducive  to  weariness  of  mind  and  body.  But 
though  weariness  came  in  due  course,  and  the  weight  of 
all  time  hung  heavy  on  his  eyelids,  sleep  held  pitilessly 
aloof  from  his  brain. 

For  the  greater  part  of  two  hours  the  man  held  out. 
Then  his  face  hardened ;  and  he  turned  deliberately  to  a 
combined  book-shelf  and  cupboard  that  hung  on  the  wall. 


AFTER   FIVE   YEARS.  93 

From  the  cupboard  he  took  a  dark  slender  bottle  labelled 
chlorodyne ;  and  seating  it  on  the  table,  fetched  a  glass 
and  water-bottle  from  the  bedroom. 

That  done,  he  poured  himself  out  a  dose  far  exceeding 
the  normal  allowance,  and  diluted  it  with  the  least  admis- 
sible amount  of  water. 

He  drank  the  mixture  slowly,  savouring  its  sweetness 
and  warmth;  its  uncanny  power  to  soothe  and  bless. 
But  as  he  set  down  the  glass  revulsion  took  hold  of  him  ; 
and  on  the  heels  of  revulsion  came  self-scorn.  This  last 
roused  him  like  the  prick  of  a  spur  :  for  to  men  of  Eldred 
Lenox's  calibre,  self-respect  is  the  oxygen  of  the  soul. 
The  spirit  of  his  grandfather  had  "  scored  a  point "  to-night. 
But  such  an  achievement  must  not  be  risked  again. 

With  the  same  deliberation  that  had  marked  all  his 
former  movements,  Lenox  picked  up  the  bottle,  emptied 
its  sluggish  contents  down  one  of  those  primitive  sluices 
that  are  to  be  found  in  every  Indian  bungalow,  and 
returned,  still  absently  holding  it  between  his  finger  and 
thumb.  A  confession  of  weakness :  there  is  no  denying 
it.  But  let  him  who  has  not  yet  found  the  devil's  chink 
in  his  own  defences  cast  the  stone.  Head,  heart,  or  heel — 
there  is  a  weak  spot  in  the  strongest.  Not  even  Achilles' 
self  was  plunged  wholesale  into  the  waters  of  immunity. 

Quite  suddenly  Lenox  realised  that  he  was  still  holding 
the  bottle :  and  for  some  unfathomable  reason  the  trivial 
detail  acted  as  a  fuse  that  fires  the  magazine.  For  the 
first  time  that  night,  unreasoning  anger  mastered  him : 
anger  against  himself;  against  the  whole  tragi- comical 
scheme  of  things ;  against  the  man  whose  dead  sins  he 
was  called  upon  to  expiate  in  his  own  living  flesh. 

A  curse  forced  its  way  between  his  teeth ;  and  he  flung 
the  unoffending  scrap  of  glass  into  the  open  hearth,  where 
it  clinked  and  shivered  into  a  hundred  splinters,  filling 
the  room  with  the  strong  sickly  odour  of  the  drug. 

Then  he  went  back  again  to  the  long  chair  ;  limbs  and 
brain  weighted  with  a  luxury  of  weariness.  Shattered 
hope ;  a  life-and-death  struggle  ahead  : — the  words  held 
no  meaning  for  him  now.  His  lids  fell.  The  balm  of 
Nirvana  shrouded  his  senses,  blotting  out  thought,  as  sea 
mists,  rolling  landward,  obliterate  all  things. 


94  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

The  June  morning  broke  in  one  sheet  of  gold.  Creeping 
in  through  the  interstices  of  lowered  "  chicks,"  it  em- 
phasised the  untidy,  up-all-night  aspect  of  the  room ;  the 
sharp  lines,  pencilled  by  pain  and  struggle,  on  the  sleeper's 
face,  where  he  lay  full  length,  in  shirt-sleeves  and  scarlet 
waistcoat,  unhooked  and  flung  open  before  weariness  over- 
powered him. 

A  deep  sound,  persistently  repeated,  at  last  invaded  and 
dispelled  the  drugged  torpor  of  his  brain:  the  voice  of 
Zyarulla  murmuring:  "Sahib — Sahib,"  with  the  regularity 
of  a  minute-gun. 

Lenox  stirred,  yawned,  and  looked  blankly  about  him, 
as  though  he  had  waked  in  another  world.  Then  remem- 
brance sprang  at  him,  like  a  wild  thing  upon  its  prey  : 
and  his  eyes  fell  again  heavily.  In  that  first  moment  of 
consciousness  he  understood  why  men  of  proven  honour 
and  courage  have -been  known  to  take  liberties  with  the 
laws  of  life  and  death. 

Zyarulla,  entering  soundlessly,  set  down  the  chota  hazri 
on  a  small  table  at  his  master's  elbow  without  betraying 
his  surprise  and  concern  by  so  much  as  the  flicker  of  an 
eyelash.  For  not  even  your  immaculate  family  butler 
can  excel,  in  dignity  and  true  reserve,  a  bearer  of  the  old 
school,  whose  Sahib  stands  only  second  to  his  God,  and 
who  would  almost  as  soon  think  of  defiling  his  caste  as  of 
entering  another  man's  service.  We  have  educated  the 
grand  old  ideal  of  service  out  of  our  own  land ;  and  we  are 
fast  educating  it  out  of  India  also :  though  it  remains  an 
open  question  whether  the  good  wrought  by  over-civilisa- 
tion can  honestly  be  said  to  counterbalance  the  evil.  A 
question  few  Anglo-Indians  will  be  found  to  answer  in 
the  affirmative. 

Lenox  poured  out  his  tea,  and  drank  it  thirstily.  But 
the  first  mouthful  of  toast  was  enough  for  him.  He  pushed 
the  plate  away ;  and  his  hand  went  out  instinctively  to 
the  pipe  Zyarulla  had  laid  beside  it. 

"  Damn  ! "  he  muttered  between  his  teeth,  almost  flinging 
it  from  him ;  and  at  that  instant  the  door  opened. 

" Desmin  Sahib  argya"1  the  Pathan  announced;  and 

1  Has  come. 


AFTER    FIVE   YEARS.  95 

with  a  startled  sound,  Lenox  got  upon  his  feet,  and  began 
fastening  his  waistcoat. 

"Good  morning,"  he  said  quietly.  "Made  a  night  of 
it,  as  you  see ;  and  overslept  myself." 

But  beneath  his  quiet  he  was  acutely  aware  of  the  con- 
trast between  his  own  dishevelled  aspect,  and  Desmond's 
unobtrusive  neatness  and  freshness. 

"  Hope  I  don't  intrude,"  the  latter  apologised,  smiling : 
but  his  keen  eyes  searched  the  other's  face,  and  read 
tragedy  there.  "  As  you  hadn't  turned  up  by  ten-thirty, 
my  wife  was  afraid  something  might  have  gone  wrong. 
So  I  came  over  to  set  her  mind  at  rest ! " 

"  Your  wife  ?  Why,  of  course !  And  I  promised  to  be 
round  by  ten — ill-mannered  cur  that  I  am  ! "  He  sank 
wearily  into  his  chair.  "  Truth  is,"  he  added  in  a  changed 
tone,  "  I  couldn't  get  a  wink  of  sleep  till  near  dawn  ;  and 
then  it  came  down  on  me  like  a  sledge-hammer.  You 
know  the  sort  of  thing." 

Desmond  nodded,  and  took  a  seat  on  the  edge  of  the 
table. 

.  "  Are  you  often  given  that  way  ? "  he  asked  with  seem- 
ing unconcern. 

"Now  and  again." 

"  Ever  been  really  bad  with  it  ? " 

"  Pretty  bad.     Why  d'you  ask  ? " 

"Because  from  the  looks  of  you,  I  should  say  it  was 
wearing  your  nerves  to  fiddle-strings.  Ever  take  anything 
for  it  ? " 

Lenox  frowned;  and  Desmond  made  haste  to  add:  "No 
call,  of  course,  to  answer  a  question  of  that  sort.  But  you 
look  downright  ill;  and  it's  unwise  to  let  that  kind  of 
thing  become  a  habit." 

"  Damned  unwise  ! "  Lenox  answered,  with  a  smile  that 
did  not  lift  the  shadow  from  his  eyes.  "  As  I  know  to  my 
cost.  The  thing  has  been  a  habit  with  me  for  longer  than 
I  care  to  reckon." 

Desmond  raised  his  eyebrows.  He  had  noticed  the 
fragments  in  the  fender :  the  faint  suggestion  of  chloro- 
dyne  that  still  clung  in  the  air. 

"My  dear  Lenox,  I  am  sorry  for  that.  And  —  the 
remedy  ?  You  must  have  tried  something  before  now  ? " 


96  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  Yes.  Drugged  tobacco  : — opium,  a  good  strong  mix- 
ture," the  other  answered  bluntly.  "You  may  as  well 
have  it  straight.  You're  an  understanding  fellow;  and 
no  Pharisee." 

Then,  in  a  few  clipped  sentences,  he  stated  the  bald 
facts  of  the  case,  culminating  in  his  discovery  of  the  pre- 
vious night.  He  leaned  forward  in  speaking ;  elbows  on 
knees ;  eyes  averted  from  the  other's  face. 

"  You  see,  it's  in  the  blood, — that's  the  hell  of  it  all,"  he 
concluded  fiercely.  "  This  morning,  when  I'd  had  my  fill  of 
thinking  things  out,  I  took  a  stiff  dose  of  chlorodyne. 
Smashed  the  bottle  afterwards,  in  disgust.  But  where's 
the  use  ?  The  dice  are  loaded  :  and  no  doubt  one  will  be 
driven  back  to  it  again,  sooner  or  later." 

Words  and  tone  betrayed  the  dread  note  of  fatalism — 
the  moral  microbe  of  the  East.  But  men  of  Theo  Des- 
mond's calibre  rarely  succumb  to  its  paralysing  influence. 

"  Look  here,  Lenox," — he  spoke  almost  brusquely, — 
"  you  must  get  quit  of  that  notion.  No  man  worth  his 
salt  goes  to  meet  failure  half-way.  I  grant  you're  on  the 
edge  of  an  ugly  pit,  and  if  you  insist  on  peering  into  it, 
your  chance  is  gone.  All  you  have  to  do  is  to  shut  your 
eyes,  and  hang  to  the  reins  like  the  very  deuce ;  if  it's 
only  for  the  sake  of — your  wife.  Honor  told  me  about 
her,"  he  added,  with  more  gentleness. 

But  Lenox  threw  up  his  head  impatiently.  "  My 
wife  ? "  he  repeated  on  a  note  of  concentrated  bitterness. 
"  The  greatest  kindness  I  could  do  her  would  be  to  plunge 
wholesale  into  the  pit,  and  give  her  back  the  freedom  she 
wants.  A  man  with  a  taint  in  his  blood  has  no  business 
to  beget  children  foredoomed  to  fight — and  lose." 

"  My  good  chap,"  Desmond  broke  in  hotly.  "  I'll  never 
believe  that  any  living  soul  is  foredoomed  to  lose.  The 
chance  of  a  fight,  no  matter  how  heavy  the  odds,  includes 
the  chance  of  victory.  And  even  if  things  do  look  a  bit 
hopeless  for  a  time,  our  orders  are  plain  and  straight :  '  No 
surrender.' " 

Lenox  searched  his  face. 

"  Ever  been  through  the  fire  yourself  ? " 

Desmond  nodded. 

"  I  suppose  most  of  us  have  to  go  through  hell  once  or 


AFTER    FIVE    YEARS.  97 

twice,"  he  said  quietly.  "And  I  know  how  it  feels  to 
wish  that  some  one  would  lock  up  my  revolver." 

For  answer  Lenox  got  up  and  paced  the  room,  head 
down ;  hands  plunged  deep  into  trouser-pockets ;  lost,  by 
now,  to  all  sense  of  his  incongruous  appearance. 

The  other  watched  him  thoughtfully.  Then  his  hand 
went  to  his  breast-pocket,  and  drew  out  a  leather  case. 
A  man  proffers  tobacco  to  a  friend  in  trouble  as  instinct- 
ively as  a  woman  proffers  a  caress. 

"Have  a  cheroot?"  he  said,  holding  them  out:  and 
Lenox  checked  his  pacing. 

"  Thanks, — no.     I've  no  taste  for  'em.     Never  had." 

"  Better  cultivate  it,  then.  These  are  Al  Havannahs. 
A  passing  extravagance.  Good  to  begin  upon.  I'd  drop 
pipes  for  a  time,  if  I  were  you.  When  it  comes  to  break- 
ing a  habit,  association  is  the  devil.  And  whatever  hap- 
pens, don't  let  this  heredity  bogey  get  the  upper  hand  of 
you.  The  taint  you  speak  of  is  no  more,  as  yet,  than 
inherited  tendency  :  and  this  accident — if  you  believe  in 
accident,  I  don't — gives  you  the  chance  of  killing  the 
snake  in  the  egg.  Now  light  up,  there's  a  good  chap ; 
just  to  keep  me  company." 

Lenox  helped  himself  with  a  wry  face;  lit  the  cigar, 
and  continued  his  walk.  The  iron  had  bitten  into  his 
soul :  and,  at  the  moment,  he  was  incapable  of  gratitude. 
Bit  by  bit  brain  and  body  were  adjusting  themselves  to 
the  new  outlook,  the  new  demands  enforced  upon  them ; 
and  the  process  was  not  a  pleasant  one. 

Suddenly  he  drew  up,  and  faced  his  companion. 

"You  can  leave  me  out  of  the  reckoning  now  for 
Chumba  and  Kajiar,"  he  said  abruptly.  "  I'm  in  no 
mood  for  that  sort  of  foolery.  I'll  stay  here  and  grind 
at  this  book  of  mine  instead.  You  must  excuse  me  to 
Mrs  Desmond ;  and  tell  her  just  as  much  of  the  truth  as 
you  think  fit." 

But  before  he  had  finished  speaking,  Desmond  was  on 
his  feet,  decision  in  every  line  of  him. 

"  Not  if  I  know  it,  my  dear  fellow !  You  won't  get  a 
stroke  of  work  done  just  at  present;  and  'that  sort  of 
foolery,'  as  you  call  it,  will  do  you  all  the  good  in  the 
world.  Your  best  chance  is  to  get  right  outside  yourself ; 

G 


98  THE    GREAT    AMULET. 

and  we'll  make  it  our  business  to  keep  you  there — Honor 
and  I." 

At  that  Lenox  turned  hastily  away ;  and  his  broken 
attempt  at  a  laugh  was  not  good  to  hear. 

"  Damn  it  all,  man,  why  don't  you  leave  me  alone,  to 
go  to  the  devil  in  my  own  way?  What  can  it  matter 
to  you,  or  to  any  one,  whether  I  break  myself  in  pieces, 
or  am  merely  broken  on  the  wheel  ? " 

Desmond's  quick  ear  detected  emotion  beneath  the 
ungraciousness  of  speech  and  tone ;  and  following  him, 
he  laid  a  hand  on  his  shoulder,  a  friendly  liberty  to 
which  Lenox  was  little  accustomed. 

"  Come  along  home  with  me,"  he  said  quietly.  "  Stay 
for  tiffin,  and  talk  it  all  out  with  my  wife.  She'll  be 
able  to  answer  you  far  better  than  I  can.  Nothing  like 
a  woman's  sympathy  to  put  a  dash  of  conceit  back  into  a 
man.  Will  you  follow  on  ?  Or  shall  I  wait  while  you 
change  ? " 

For  an  instant  Lenox  stood  silent ;  then,  greatly  to  his 
own  surprise,  he  held  out  his  hand. 

"  I'll  be  ready  in  ten  minutes,"  was  all  he  said. 

An  hour  later,  Desmond  rode  away  from  Terah  Cottage, 
leaving  Lenox  and  his'wife  alone  together.  He  had  prom- 
ised to  give  her  what  help  he  could  in  the  delicate  task 
she  had  set  her  heart  upon :  and  he  belonged  to  the 
satisfactory  type  of  man  who  may  be  counted  upon  for 
good  measure,  pressed  down,  and  running  over. 


99 


BOOK  II.-JUST   IMPEDIMENT. 

CHAPTER   IX. 

"  So  many  men  ;  so  many  loves." 

— M.  G.  WILLCOCKS. 

A  DINNER  of  native  dishes  served  on  leaves — to  each 
guest  his  own  portion  on  his  own  leaf — eaten  picnic- 
fashion  on  a  Kashmir  carpet  in  the  presence  of  twelve 
regally  reproachful  chairs,  is  a  form  of  entertainment 
only  to  be  met  with  in  India  j  and  when,  to  these  incon- 
gruities, is  added  the  crowning  one  that  the  host  may  not 
defile  himself  by  sharing  the  meal  with  his  guests,  you 
have  a  situation  typical  of  the  land  where  all  things 
are  possible. 

Prompted  by  Colonel  Mayhew,  the  Chumba  Eajah,  a 
shy  taciturn  boy  of  sixteen,  had  despatched  a  formal 
invitation,  hoping  that  the  Residency  party  would  honour 
him  with  their  company  at  the  Palace  on  the  evening  of 
their  arrival  from  Dalhousie ;  though  in  truth  he  wished 
them  anywhere  else  in  the  world ;  and  Colonel  Mayhew, 
who  was  by  no  means  too  old  to  enjoy  a  spasmodic  day- 
light flirtation  with  a  woman  of  Quita's  intelligence,  had 
devised  the  native  menu  mainly  for  her  delectation. 

A  large  sheet,  promoted  to  the  rank  of  tablecloth, 
covered  the  carpet,  while  ten  cushions  apologised  for  the 
absence  of  chairs.  A  bowl  of  roses,  rigidly  arranged  in 
alternate  lines  of  flower  and  fern,  filled  the  room  with 
fragrance.  In  front  of  each  guest  a  snowy  dome  of  rice, 
ringed  about  with  a  strange  assortment  of  curries,  gleamed 
on  a  silver  salver.  A  quaint  array  of  flat  baskets  held 
fragments  of  roast  chicken  and  kid ;  unleavened  cakes  of 


100  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

a  peculiarly  greasy  nature  did  duty  for  bread ;  and  the 
only  concessions  to  civilisation  were  knives  and  forks, 
table-napkins,  and  champagne. 

"  Why  shouldn't  we  have  the  courage  of  our  barbarism, 
and  do  without  knives  and  forks  as  well?"  Quita  had 
suggested  airily,  at  the  outset ;  and  a  faint  look  of  horror 
convulsed  Mrs  Mayhew's  bird-like  face. 

Her  husband  saw  it,  and  came  promptly  to  her  aid. 

"  No  forks,  no  champagne ! "  he  retorted,  laughing ;  and 
Quita  picked  up  her  fork  straightway. 

"  Hobson's  choice ! "  she  said,  in  a  tone  of  mock  resig- 
nation. "  It  would  be  sheer  brutality  to  deprive  six  men 
of  champagne ! " 

She  was  sitting  now  on  a  cushion,  at  the  Eesident's 
right  hand,  feet  tucked  away  under  her  skirts,  and  a 
napkin  laid  across  her  knee.  On  this  she  had  set  a  leaf 
piled  with  saffron-tinted  rice,  which  she  was  exploring 
eagerly  for  incidental  sultanas  and  yellow  lumps  of  sugar, 
exchanging  bulletins,  from  time  to  time,  with  Desmond, 
who  had  taken  her  in  to  dinner,  and  in  whom  she  speedily 
recognised  a  morning  quality  of  mind  that  matched  her  own. 

Lenox,  sitting  opposite  between  Honor  and  Elsie, 
acutely .  aware  that  his  legs  were  too  long  for  the  occa- 
sion, almost  forgot  the  torment  of  the  past  week  in 
looking  and  listening,  and  wondering  how  he  had  ever 
attained  even  a  passing  hold  upon  a  spirit  so  lightly 
poised,  so  compact  of  volatile  essences,  that  he  shrank, 
almost  with  awe,  from  the  bare  thought  of  subjecting 
her  uncaptured  loveliness  to  the  pains  and  penalties  of 
marriage.  He  sat  for  the  most  part  in  silence ;  content  to 
let  the  ripple  of  her  voice  and  laughter  play  over  him  like 
water  over  parched  earth.  Her  voice  had  drawn  him 
irresistibly  from  the  first.  It  was  a  thing  of  exquisite 
modulations.  It  thrilled  like  a  caress.  Its  clear,  cool 
tones,  pure  from  passion,  intoxicated  him  like  the  rare- 
fied atmosphere  of  the  heights.  Once  or  twice  she 
flung  him  a  question  or  a  remark,  as  if  compelling  him 
to  be  aware  of  her  existence.  He  answered  her  with 
grave  politeness,  and  an  occasional  direct  look,  before 
which  her  eyes  fell,  as  if  dazzled  by  a  helio-flash  from 
the  man's  inner  fire. 


JUST    IMPEDIMENT.  101 

All  these  things  Honor  Desmond  noted;  and,  by  the 
searchlight  of  her  womanhood,  discerned  more  than  Quita 
herself  had  yet  realised. 

Garth,  from  his  uncoveted  post  of  honour  at  Mrs  May- 
hew's  left  hand,  noted  them  also ;  but  with  less  of  under- 
standing. Stung  to  irritation  by  a  sense  of  vague  happen- 
ings in  which  he  counted  for  nothing,  and  by  the  fact 
that  Quita  was  evidently  enjoying  herself  far  more  than 
the  occasion  seemed  to  warrant,  he  was  in  no  mood  to  do 
justice  to  the  supreme  event  of  the  day  —  his  dinner. 
Strange  foods,  too,  were  an  abomination  to  his  clockwork 
order  of  mind ;  and  when,  in  addition,  he  found  himself 
condemned  to  eat  them  sitting  cross-legged  on  the  ground, 
a  leaf  balanced  precariously  on  one  knee,  he  began  to 
entertain  grave  doubts  as  to  the  comparative  values  of 
the  game  and  the  candle. 

He  quite  resented  the  manifest  contentment  of  Elsie 
Mayhew  and  her  partner,  who  sat  facing  him,  absorbed 
in  the  low -toned  talk  of  incipient  lovers,  blind  and 
deaf  to  the  insignificant  doings  around  them.  Nor  was 
he  greatly  blest  in  his  left  -  hand  partner,  Bathurst, 
the  Kajah's  tutor  —  a  clean-limbed  athlete  of  the  two- 
adjective  genus,  who  discoursed  complacently  of  "bags," 
"  mounts,"  and  handicaps ;  the  staple  topics  of  his  kind. 
And  while  the  stream  of  words  flowed  on,  unchecked  by 
his  flagrant  inattention,  Garth's  ears  were  tantalised  by 
snatches  of  talk  from  the  lively  end  of  the  table,  where 
Desmond  and  Quita  were  behaving  like  two  children ;  by 
the  silver  quality  of  her  laughter  that  whipped  his  senses, 
while  it  lulled  his  conscience  like  a  narcotic,  and  set  him 
devising  a  moonlight  stroll  with  her  later  on,  in  the  Palace 
courtyard,  by  way  of  compensation  for  present  martyrdom 
endured  on  her  account.  For  since  the  night  of  the  dance 
she  had  been  so  uniformly  gracious,  that  he  was  beginning 
to  regard  his  rebuff  on  Dynkund  as  little  more  than  a 
delicate  prelude  to  surrender  after  all. 

Such  absorbing  reflections  made  him  so  neglectful  of 
his  hostess,  that  the  little  lady's  spasmodic  efforts  to  en- 
liven him  with  spiced  snippets  of  gossip — more  than  one 
item  of  which  had  emanated  from  himself — fizzled  out 
dismally,  long  before  the  meal  was  over ;  and  it  was  with 


102  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

an  audible  sigh  of  relief  that  she  glanced  across  at  Mrs 
Desmond,  and  got  upon  her  feet  with  as  much  dignity  as 
a  cushion,  a  plump  figure,  and  cramped  limbs  would  allow. 

"  What  ?  You  do  not  desert  us  ? "  Quita  asked,  as 
Desmond  offered  her  his  arm. 

"  No — I  do  not  desert  you  ! "  He  spoke  lightly,  but 
significance  lurked  in  his  tone.  "  The  Eajah  and  his  suite 
are  waiting  to  receive  us  in  the  Durbar  Hall,  and  unless 
you  object  to  my  cigar,  or  send  me  to  the  right-about, 
I  claim  you  as  my  prisoner  of  war  for  the  evening ! " 

"  A  la  bonheur  !  Smoke  as  much  as  you  please.  You 
will  not  need  to  tie  a  thread  round  my  ankle,  I  promise 
you.  Why  didn't  I  get  to  know  you  sooner  ? " 

"Perhaps  because  you  discovered  metal  more  attractive  ? " 

The  light  thrust  drew  blood.  She  flushed,  and  laughed 
uneasily. 

"  A  palpable  hit !  I  might  retaliate  with  a  coal  of  fire 
in  the  shape  of  a  compliment.  But  you  don't  deserve  it. 
Anyway,  let's  make  up  for  lost  time  now.  I  have  a  feeling 
that  we  shall  be  good  friends,  only  .  .  .  .  " 

«  Only— what  ? " 

"  Mrs  Desmond  may  disapprove  of  me." 

"You'd  not  say  that  if  you  knew  her  better,"  he 
answered,  warmly.  "  She  isn't  one  of  your  good  women 
who  make  a  hobby  of  disapproval." 

"  That's  a  mercy  !  It  is  the  pet  vice  of  the  virtuous ; 
and  Mrs  Mayhew  deals  in  it  largely.  No  doubt  it  keeps 
her  happy,  and  makes  her  feel  superior ;  and  I  wouldn't 
rob  my  worst  enemy  of  such  a  heavenly  sensation ! 
I'm  sorry  for  her  to-night,  though.  She  hates  natives 
almost  as  much  as  Colonel  Mayhew  loves  them :  and  I'm 
afraid  she's  not  enjoying  herself ;  nor  will  poor  Elsie,  if 
Captain  Lenox  makes  her  a  prisoner  of  war  for  the  evening  ! 
He  hardly  vouchsafed  her  half  a  dozen  words  through 
dinner." 

"  Lenox  is  no  conversationalist,"  Desmond  answered, 
looking  straight  before  him.  "  But  he  is  a  splendid  fellow 
— worth  fifty  of  your  drawing-room  acrobats." 

"  You  like  him  so  much,  then  ? " 

"  I  do  more  than  that.     I  admire  him." 

"  You  are  an  enthusiast ! " 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  103 

The  shadow  of  change  in  her  tone  did  not  escape  him. 

"  Is  that  also  one  of  the  vices  you  detest  ? " 

"  But,  no !  I  gave  you  credit  for  more  discernment. 
Enthusiasts  and  idealists  are  the  salt  of  the  earth.  That's 
why  I  want  to  know  more  of  you.  There  !  In  spite  of 
myself  I  have  crowned  you  with  a  coal  of  fire  after  all ! 
Now,  please  introduce  me  to  our  resplendent  Rajah  Sahib. 
I  am  going  to  make  him  talk.  Colonel  Mayhew  has  dared 
me  to  succeed ! " 

They  entered  the  Durbar  Hall  as  she  spoke — a  long 
room  overloaded  with  gilt  furniture,  gilt-framed  mirrors, 
and  the  inevitable  chandeliers  and  musical  boxes  that  are 
the  insignia  of  semi-civilised  opulence  throughout  India. 
No  self-respecting  Maharajah,  or  Eana,  or  Nawab  would 
dream  of  living  in  a  Palace  devoid  of  either. 

Rajah  Govind  Singh  and  his  four  companions  stood 
together  by  a  marble-topped  table,  laughing  and  whisper- 
ing over  a  book  filled  with  photographs  of  music-hall 
celebrities,  while  beside  it  a  spurious  album,  whose  heart 
was  a  musical  box,  tinkled  an  age-old  air  from  "  Les 
Cloches  "  with  maddening  precision.  At  the  far  end  of 
the  room  a  native  conjurer  had  established  himself,  and 
was  already  performing  indef atigably  for  the  benefit  of  no 
one  in  particular. 

The  group  by  the  table  showed  a  medley  of  colour  quite 
in  keeping  with  the  flash  and  glitter  of  the  whole.  Over 
spotless  shirts  and  trousers  the  boys  wore  brilliant  silk 
chogas,1  cunningly  patterned  with  gold  wire,  and  sur- 
mounted by  turbans  of  palest  primrose,  orange,  and  green. 
But  Govind  Singh,  by  divine  right  of  Rajahdom,  eclipsed 
the  rest.  Beneath  his  scarlet  coat  gleamed  a  waistcoat  of 
woven  gold,  and  the  jewelled  buckle  of  his  Rajput  chuprass? 
Three  strings  of  pearls  formed  a  close  collar  at  his  throat, 
and  in  front  of  his  sea-green  turban  a  heron's  plume  sprang 
from  a  cluster  of  brilliants.  The  faces  of  all  were  no 
darker  than  ripe  wheat;  for  your  high -caste  hill -man 
never  takes  colour,  like  his  brother  of  the  plains. 

They  had  long  since  eaten  their  own  simple  dinner,  in 
the  scantiest  clothing,  and  in  a  solemn  silence,  squatting 

1  Long  loose  coats.  2  Cross-belt. 


104  THE    GREAT    AMULET. 

on  a  bare  mud  floor.  For  to  the  Hindu  a  meal  is  a  sacred 
ceremony,  and  the  Sahib's  idiosyncrasy  for  making  merry 
over  his  food  can  only  be  accepted  as  part  and  parcel  of 
his  bewildering  lack  of  sense  and  dignity  in  regard  to  the 
conduct  of  life. 

During  a  long  minority  this  boy  had  been  zealously 
inoculated  with  Western  knowledge  and  Western  points  of 
view ;  and  with  the  deceptive  pliancy  of  the  Oriental  he 
had  smilingly  submitted  to  the  process.  But  deep  down 
in  the  unplumbed  heart  of  him  he  waited  for  the  good  day 
when  he  would  be  rid  of  these  well-meaning  interlopers, — 
tireless  as  their  own  fire-carriages, — who  troubled  the  still 
waters  of  life  and  talked  so  vigorously  about  nothing  in 
particular ;  when  he  would  be  free  to  forget  cricket  and 
polo  and  futile  efforts  to  cleanse  the  State  from  intrigue ; 
free  to  sit  down  in  peace  and  grow  fat,  unhindered  by  the 
senseless  machinations  of  the  outer  world. 

And  in  the  heart  of  Govind  Singh  you  have  a  fair 
epitome  of  the  great  heart  of  India  herself :  aloof,  long- 
suffering,  illogical  to  a  degree  inconceivable  by  Western 
minds ;  ready  to  lavish  deep-hearted  devotion  upon  indi- 
vidual Nicholsons  and  Lawrences  when  they  come  her 
way ;  yet,  for  all  her  surface  submission  and  progress,  not 
an  inch  nearer  to  racial  sympathy,  or  to  the  inner  signif- 
icance of  English  life  and  character  than  she  was  fifty 
years  ago. 

But,  in  the  meanwhile,  our  concern  is  with  a  minor 
Maharajah,  and  his  passion  for  musical  boxes. 

At  the  Resident's  approach,  the  laughter  and  whispering 
ceased ;  and  the  four  boys  endured  with  impassive  polite- 
ness the  mysterious  rite  of  introduction.  The  tinkling 
album  gave  Quita  her  cue.  She  insisted  on  hearing  its 
entire  repertoire,  which  was  mercifully  limited;  and  her 
natural  ease  of  manner,  her  knack  of  plunging  whole- 
heartedly into  the  subject  of  the  moment,  soon  put  Govind 
Singh's  shyness  to  flight.  He  deserted  monosyllables  for 
clipped,  hurried  sentences,  jerked  out  with  an  odd  mixture 
of  nervousness  and  self-satisfaction.  Quita  flashed  a  smile 
at  Desmond,  who  stood  sentry  at  her  elbow,  in  seeming 
ignorance  of  the  fact  that  Garth  was  making  tentative 
attempts  to  usurp  his  place. 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  105 

"  You  must  show  me  some  of  the  others,  Eajah  Sahib," 
she  declared,  as  the  complacent  album  clicked  into  silence, 
"  and  when  I  go  home  to  England  I  will  hunt  you  up  a 
new  kind  to  add  to  your  collection ! " 

The  boy's  eyes  lost  their  look  of  lazy  indifference;  a 
gleam  of  superb  teeth  illumined  his  face. 

"An  upright  grand  is  the  last  trifling  addition  to  it, 
Miss  Maurice,"  Colonel  Mayhew  informed  her,  "  but  the 
Rajah  was  a  little  disappointed  when  he  found  that  it 
couldn't  be  set  going  by  the  turning  of  a  key." 

"  I  am  liking  the  big  noise — the  big  tamasha,"  the  young 
monarch  explained  in  all  gravity.  "  And  I  think  that  one 
is  too  much  price  for  a  box  that  will  do  nothing  unless 
somebody  knows  to  make  it  speak." 

"  Mrs  Desmond  can  make  it  speak  for  you,  Eajah  Sahib," 
Colonel  Mayhew  suggested  ;  and  the  boy  turned  upon  her 
with  shy  eagerness. 

"  Can  you  really  do  a  tune  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Several  tunes ! "  she  answered,  smiling.  "  A  big  noise, 
if  you  like." 

"  Oh,  that  is  very  good  business.     Thanks  awfully." 

He  spoke  the  slang  phrases,  picked  up  from  Bathurst, 
with  mechanical  precision ;  and  Honor,  still  smiling,  went 
over  to  the  piano — a  flamboyant  instrument  of  rosewood 
and  gold.  After  a  second  of  hesitation  Lenox  followed, 
opened  it  for  her,  and  resting  a  hand  on  the  gilt  back  of 
her  chair,  bent  down  to  speak  to  her  before  she  began  to 
play.  The  suggestion  of  intimacy  in  his  attitude  was  not 
lost  on  Quita,  who  saw  it  all,  without  glancing  in  their 
direction.  Her  lips  tightened;  and  she  started  slightly 
when  Desmond  spoke  to  her. 

"  Will  you  go  round  the  musical  boxes  with  me  ? "  he 
asked,  in  an  undertone  that  bordered  on  tenderness.  For 
he  saw  that  something  in  her  suffered,  whether  it  were 
pride  or  love. 

"  But  yes — by  all  means,"  she  answered,  with  a  lift  of 
her  head  which  suggested  to  Desmond  a  jerk  on  the  curb- 
chain.  In  moving  off  together  they  passed  close  to  Garth. 
But  Quita,  who  was  abstractedly  opening  and  closing  her 
fan,  did  not  seem  aware  of  his  presence ;  and  he  stood 
looking  after  them — nonplussed  and  inwardly  blasphem- 


106  THE  GREAT   AMULET. 

ing.    He  did  not  hold  the  key  to  this  new  phase  of  the 
situation. 

Mrs  Mayhew — noting  his  detachment  from  the  Palace 
group,  and  quite  needlessly  alarmed  lest  politeness  should 
impel  him  to  return  to  her — sought  out  a  strategic  seat 
near  the  piano ;  though  in  truth  Honor  Desmond's  mas- 
terly rendering  of  Chopin's  heroic  polonaise  was,  for  her, 
no  more  than  a  complicated  tumult  of  sound  without 
sense,  and  her  wrapt  expression  resulted  from  the  fact 
that  she  was  debating  whether  her  durzi  could  possibly 
reproduce  at  sight  the  subtle  simplicity  of  Mrs  Desmond's 
evening  gown.  For  she  had  sons  growing  up  at  home — 
this  insignificant  woman,  whose  plump  proportions  and 
bird-like  eyes  had  earned  her  the  nickname  of  "  the 
Button  Quail " ;  and  even  a  good  appointment  did  not 
annul  the  vagaries  of  the  rupee,  which  was  behaving 
peculiarly  ill  just  then.  In  the  intervals  of  imaginary 
dressmaking,  she  was  enjoying  shrewd  speculations  as  to 
the  nature  and  extent  of  the  budding  "  affair "  between 
the  two  at  the  piano;  for  her  small  mind  clung  tena- 
ciously to  the  Noah's  Ark  view  of  life.  Also  it  seemed 
that  Elsie's  own  "little  affair"  was  assuming  quite  a 
promising  aspect.  Personally,  she  disliked  the  man,  but 
his  talent  was  undeniable.  She  supposed  he  must  be 
making  money  by  it ;  and  he  was  quite  clearly  making  a 
right-of-way  into  her  daughter's  heart. 

They  had  drifted  apart  from  the  rest  without  need  of 
spoken  suggestion ;  and  now,  under  cover  of  Honor's 
music,  which  produced  a  tendency  to  gravitate  towards 
the  piano,  the  man  grew  bolder. 

"  There  is  moonlight  out  in  the  courtyard,"  he  said, 
very  low ;  and  he  tried,  without  success,  to  look  into  her 
eyes.  "  Que  dites-vous  ?  Shall  we  go  ? " 

She  did  not  answer  at  once.  A  new  spirit  of  boldness 
was  awake  in  her,  urging  her  to  take  hold  of  her  golden 
hour  with  both  hands,  nothing  doubting.  But  the  man, 
even  when  he  charmed  her  most,  failed  to  inspire  her 
trust.  And  while  she  stood  hesitating,  his  gaze  never  left 
her  face. 

"  Are  you  thinking  it  would  scandalise  la  petite  mere  ?  " 

"  It  might.     She  is  easily  scandalised  ! " 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  10  7 

"  But  you  would  like  to  come  ? " 

"  Yes — I  would  like  to  come." 

"  Eh  lien — that  is  enough." 

"  Is  it  ? " 

She  looked  up  at  him  now  with  those  great,  truthful 
eyes  of  hers,  which  he  found  oddly  disconcerting  at 
times. 

"  Enough  for  me,  at  all  events ! "  he  answered  boldly. 
"  Come ! " 

And  she  came. 

The  flagged  quadrangle,  walled  in  with  darkness  and 
worn  with  the  tread  of  numberless  women's  feet,  showed 
silver-grey  in  the  light  of  a  moon  nearing  the  full ;  and 
above  it,  in  a  square  patch  of  sky,  stars  sparkled  with  a 
veiled  radiance  like  diamonds  caught  in  a  film  of  gossa- 
mer. As  Elsie  emerged  from  the  shadow  of  the  verandah, 
she  had  a  sense  of  stepping  into  an  unreal  world,  and  the 
Palace  walls,  shutting  out  the  familiar  contours  of  earth, 
strengthened  the  illusion.  The  night  seemed  the  accom- 
plice of  her  mood,  in  league  with  her  own  exquisite  sensi- 
bility ;  a  night  created  for  sheltering  tenderness. 

Michael  Maurice,  divining  her  sensations  with  the 
uncanny  accuracy  of  his  type,  pressed  a  little  closer  to 
her  as  they  walked,  so  that  now  and  again,  as  if  by  chance, 
his  arm  brushed  her  own,  and  each  contact  quickened 
her  happy  commotion  of  heart  and  pulse.  They  came 
upon  a  rough  stone  bench,  and  he  paused. 

"  It  is  pleasanter  to  sit,  n'est-ce  pas  ?  " 

"  Yes.     But  we  mustn't  sit  long." 

"  Mustn't  we  ?  How  does  one  measure  time  on  such  a 
night  as  this  ?  By  the  beating  of  hearts,  or  by  the  pulsa- 
tions of  stars  ? " 

She  laughed  softly. 

"  How  foolish  you  are  ! " 

"  It  is  good  to  be  foolish  at  the  right  time,  and  with  the 
right  person  !  Wisdom  is  the  death's-head  at  the  feast  of 
life.  But  we  are  going  to  shut  her  outside  the  door  for 
a  whole  week — you  and  I." 

The  strangely  sweet  magic  of  those  linked  pronouns 
stirred  Elsie  as  never  before  ;  though  the  sound  of  them 
had  pleased  her  once,  not  a  little,  on  the  lips  of  Kenneth 


108  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

Malcolm.     But  she  answered  lightly,  as  women  will,  when 
they  feel  barriers  giving  way. 

"  I  never  knew  I  had  agreed  to  anything  so  desperate ! " 

He  had  laid  his  arm  along  the  back  of  the  seat ;  so  that 
his  hand  was  within  an  inch  of  her  shoulder.  He  moved 
it  closer. 

"  You  have  done  more  than  that  without  knowing  it — 
petite  amie,"  he  said,  yielding  himself,  as  always,  to  the 
witchery  of  the  moment.  "  It  is  your  doing  that  I  have 
achieved  an  inspired  picture.  It  is  your  doing  that  I 
want  this  week  in  Arcadia  to  be  an  idyll  we  shall  neither 
of  us  forget — an  idyll  of  sunlight,  moonshine,  and  blessed 
freedom  from  les  convenances.  No  past — no  future — only 
the  present ;  and  in  it  two  spirits  tuned  to  one  key.  That 
is  the  secret  of  perfect  enjoyment." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  I  don't  quite  understand.  It  sounds  too  fantastic. 
The  past  and  the  future  are  there  always.  One  can't  get 
rid  of  them." 

"But  one  can  shut  the  door  on  them  when  they 
threaten  to  disturb  the  present,  which  is  the  great  reality 
after  all" 

"  Can  one  ?  You  seem  to  have  a  talent  for  shutting 
doors ! " 

"  A  convenient  talent ;  worth  cultivating  !  You  may 
take  my  word  for  it." 

Something  in  the  statement  or  its  manner  of  utterance 
jarred,  ever  so  slightly, — threatened  to  break  the  charm 
that  held  her. 

"  Dangerously  convenient,"  she  murmured,  in  gentle 
reproof. 

"  Little  Puritan !  What  a  narrow  track  you  walk 
upon.  Hardly  room  on  it  for  two  abreast.  Is  there?" 

The  last  words  were  almost  a  whisper.  He  pressed 
nearer,  bringing  his  face  close  to  hers.  At  the  same  mo- 
ment she  felt  a  light  touch  on  her  shoulder,  and  drawing 
back  to  escape  the  disturbing  eloquence  of  his  eyes,  she  dis- 
covered the  presence  of  his  encircling  arm.  The  discovery 
brought  her  to  her  feet — flushed,  palpitating,  aquiver  with 
anger  at  this  first  shadow  of  insult  to  her  maidenhood. 

"  Will  you  take  me  in  again,  please  ? "  she  said  quietly, 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  109 

and  the  request  savoured  of  command.  For  her  gentle 
nature  was  founded  on  a  rock ;  and  a  very  little  below 
the  unresisting  surface  one  came  upon  adamant,  pure  and 
simple.  But  the  unabashed  Frenchman  caught  one  of 
her  hands,  and  crushed  it  against  his  lips. 

"  Petite  amie — forgive  me !  I  was  overbold.  I  am  not 
fit  to  touch  the  hem  of  your  dress.  But  one  is  only  flesh 
and  blood ;  and  you  .  .  .  say  you  are  not  angry  with  me, 
in  your  heart  .  .  .  ." 

She  drew  her  hand  away  decisively ;  and  with  uncon- 
scious cruelty  rubbed  the  back  of  it  against  her  dress,  as 
if  to  remove  a  stain. 

"  I  am  angry — I  have  a  right  to  be  angry,"  she 
answered  in  the  same  toneless  voice.  "  And  if  you  will 
not  come  in  with  me,  I  shall  go  alone." 

He  rose  then  ;  and  they  crossed  the  enchanted  court- 
yard together — a  clear  foot  of  space  between  them. 

The  brilliance  of  the  Durbar  Hall  smote  the  girl  pain- 
fully. It  was  as  though  the  light  had  power  to  penetrate 
and  reveal  her  hidden  perturbation.  Without  looking  up, 
she  felt  her  mother's  eyes  upon  her;  and  the  wild-rose 
tint  of  her  cheeks  deepened  under  their  scrutiny.  But 
she  avoided  meeting  them,  and,  going  straight  to  her 
father,  slipped  a  small  hand  under  his  arm.  She  felt 
indefinably  in  need  of  protection,  not  only  from  the  man, 
whose  kiss  had  moved  her  more  than  he  guessed,  but  from 
herself,  and  the  new  emotions  quickening  at  her  heart ; 
and  in  all  times  of  trouble  she  turned  spontaneously  to 
her  father.  He  was  the  true  parent  of  her  spirit ;  and, 
but  for  the  matter-of-fact,  half-condescending  devotion  of 
three  boys  at  home,  Mrs  Mayhew  might,  at  times,  have 
felt  left  out  in  the  cold. 

"  Enjoying  yourself,  little  girl  ? "  the  father  asked, 
smiling  down  at  her. 

"  Yes,  of  course,  dear — ever  so  much,"  she  replied,  with 
brave  untruthfulness ;  and  the  lie  must  have  been  forgiven 
her  in  heaven. 

But  the  veil  of  enchantment  was  rent ;  and  no  needle 
of  earth  has  ever  been  ground  fine  enough  to  draw  its 
frayed  edges  together. 


110  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 


CHAPTER   X. 

"  Woman,  I  grope  to  find  you  ;  but  I  cannot. 
O,  is  there  no  way  to  you,  and  no  path, — 
No  winding  path  ? " 

— S.  PHILLIPS. 

ALL  the  good  folk  of  Chumba, — men,  women,  and  children, 
— were  early  astir  on  this  June  day,  in  whose  fiery  lap 
lay  hid  the  luck  of  the  State  for  the  coming  year. 

The  stone  streets  of  the  little  town,  so  steep  as  to  be 
cut  out,  here  and  there,  into  a  rough  semblance  of  steps, 
were  alive  with  quickly  moving  figures,  in  holiday  attire : 
which,  in  the  East,  is  a  true  outward  and  visible  sign  of 
its  wearer's  inward  and  spiritual  sense  of  festivity. 

Open  shop  fronts  and  quaintly  carven  balconies  were 
noisy  with  shrill  voices.  Every  self-respecting  house  was 
plastered  with  fresh  mud  ;  every  window  and  doorway 
garlanded  with  marigold  and  jasmine  buds ;  every  brain, 
absorbed  in  the  paramount  speculation,  as  to  how  the 
sacrificial  buffalo  would  behave. 

At  three  o'clock,  under  a  blazing  sun,  the  Rajah  set  oufc, 
enthroned  on  his  State  elephant,  whose  silver  howdah  and 
gala  trappings  formed  a  fitting  pedestal  for  the  red  and 
gold  magnificence  of  the  young  prince  himself.  Two  ropes 
of  pearls  hung  down  to  his  waist :  a  huge  uncut  emerald 
made  a  vivid  incident  of  green  upon  his  gilded  chest :  and 
the  diamond  aigrette,  surmounting  his  turban  of  palest 
green  muslin,  flashed  and  quivered  in  the  sunshine,  like 
living  fire.  The  Resident,  in  immaculate  grey  suit  and 
tall  white  helmet,  sat  beside  him  in  the  awkwardly 
swaying  howdah  with  an  admirable  air  of  comfort  and 
unconcern;  and  their  triumphal  progress  was  enlivened 
by  the  brazen  cheerfulness  of  trumpets  and  trombones, 
the  melancholy  squeal  of  bagpipes,  and  the  ear-piercing 
shriek  of  native  instruments;  while,  through  all,  and 
above  all,  and  under  all,  the  throbbing  of  innumerable 
tom-toms  suggested  the  heart-beats  of  the  mighty  crowd 
made  audible. 

Journeying  thus,  along  the  unshadowed  road  that  over- 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  Ill 

hangs  the  river,  they  came  at  length  to  the  promontory 
itself.  Here,  beneath  the  huge  State  shamianah,  gaily 
coloured  Kashmir  rugs  were  spread,  for  Govind  Singh  and 
his  court :  while  curtained  enclosures,  set  at  duly  decorous 
distance,  concealed  the  women-folk,  who  had  been  con- 
veyed thither  under  close  cover  much  earlier  in  the  day. 

Through  the  surging  chattering  crowd, — which  fell  back 
right  and  left  before  their  quietly  determined  advance, — 
the  Eesidency  party  made  their  way  in  to  the  partial 
shade  of  the  shamianah,  wherein  chairs  had  been  set  for 
the  English  guests ;  four  on  either  side  of  the  Palace 
group. 

It  was  a  very  dignified  Elsie  who  slid  to  the  ground 
before  Maurice  could  get  to  her,  and  carefully  avoided  his 
reproachful  gaze.  But  he  followed  her  into  the  tent,  and 
took  his  seat  beside  her  unrebuked.  The  trifling  incident 
of  the  night  before  had  increased  not  merely  her  charm 
but  her  value  in  his  eyes.  If  this  were  not  the  '  real 
thing,'  he  reflected,  in  a  virtuous  glow  of  self-approval, 
then  surely  there  could  be  no  reality  on  earth. 

At  this  moment  he  became  aware  that  Garth  and  Mrs 
Desmond  were  established  in  the  two  neighbouring  chairs. 
His  surprise  at  this  unexpected  conjunction  showed  so 
plainly  in  his  face  that  Honor,  meeting  his  glance,  re- 
sponded with  dimplings  of  sheer  enjoyment  before  devot- 
ing herself  to  the  entertainment  of  her  victim. 

Desmond,  in  pursuance  of  a  policy  which  at  least  saved 
Lenox  from  the  sharpest  sting  of  all,  had  managed  to  ride 
close  behind  Quita  and  Garth ;  and  being  nimbler  in  dis- 
mounting than  the  older  man,  had  successfully  usurped 
his  privilege  of  lifting  her  from  the  saddle.  She  herself, 
though  not  a  little  puzzled  as  to  the  meaning  of  it  all, 
was  beginning  to  relish  the  humour  of  the  game ;  and  as 
Desmond  escorted  her  into  the  tent,  she  turned  upon  him 
a  smile  of  unabashed  amusement. 

"  This  is  flattering  !  I  appear  to  have  made  a  conquest 
of  Monsieur  le  Capitaine  !  " 

"  And  for  once  appearances  are  not  deceitful,"  he  capped 
her  straight. 

"  How  enchantingly  direct  you  are !  But  at  this  rate 
Mrs  Desmond  really  will  disapprove  .  .  ." 


112  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  No  fear  !  Mrs  Desmond  is  enjoying  it  quite  as  much 
as  I  am ! " 

She  divined  a  hidden  meaning  in  his  words :  but  merely 
lifted  her  eyebrows  and  shoulders  in  characteristic  fashion. 

"  Well — if  she  doesn't  object,  I  am  sure  I  don't ! " 

"  Nor  I,  by  any  means.  .  .  .  Come  this  way." 

He  led  her  across  the  tent,  having  noted  and  admired 
his  wife's  skilful  bit  of  strategy :  and  Lenox  instinctively 
took  the  same  direction. 

Quita  chose  the  chair  farthest  from  the  Palace  group ; 
and  in  a  few  moments,  she  knew  that  her  husband  was 
standing  close  behind  her.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had 
deliberately  approached  her  since  their  encounter  at  the 
ball :  and  the  silent  tribute,  so  characteristic  of  the  man, 
elated  her  with  a  renewed  sense  of  power  over  a  person- 
ality immeasurably  stronger  than  her  own.  It  was  like 
bringing  down  big  game  after  the  mild  diversion  of  shooting 
pheasants.  But  he  had  spent  the  whole  morning  in  the 
verandah  with  Honor  Desmond;  and  the  remembrance 
still  rankled.  Upset  her  equanimity  as  he  might,  the 
spirit  of  surrender  was  still  far  from  her. 

At  his  approach  Desmond  made  a  slight  movement,  as 
if  to  rise  ;  but  the  other  shook  his  head.  It  was  enough 
to  be  thus  close  to  her,  to  feel  that  speech  was  possible, 
yet  not  compulsory.  All  of  which  Desmond  was  quick  to 
understand. 

"  Look,  .  .  look  .  .  ."  Quita  whispered  'suddenly,  lean- 
ing towards  him.  "  They  are  forcing  that  poor  brute  to 
the  edge.  He  has  been  in  before.  Colonel  Mayhew  told 
me.  He  knows ;  ...  he  is  afraid.  Oh,  mon  Dieu,  how 
horrible !  ...  He  is  over  ! " 

A  mighty  shout  from  the  assembled  thousands,  who 
stood  ten  and  twenty  deep  along  the  banks,  confirmed  her 
words.  The  shuddering  victim  had  been  forced  over  the 
ten-foot  drop  ;  and  for  a  few  breathless  moments,  was  lost 
in  the  green  swirling  water.  A  second  shout, — unanimous, 
as  from  one  Gargantuan  throat, — heralded  the  reappear- 
ance of  the  flat  black  head,  with  its  dilated  nostrils  held 
well  above  the  blinding  wreaths  of  foam.  Tossed  merci- 
lessly from  boulder  to  boulder,  the  stout  swimmer  neared 
the  first  big  rapid;  and  a  moment  later  was  swept,  an 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  113 

unresisting  log,  into  its  treacherous  clutches.  Out  of  it 
he  plunged,  still  swimming  valiantly;  and,  despite  the 
opposing  force  of  the  current,  made  a  bold  dash  for  one  of 
the  few  possible  landings  on  the  town  bank.  But  the 
people,  foreseeing  the  attempt  from  long  experience,  were 
gathered  at  this  particular  danger-point  in  overwhelming 
numbers  ;  with  the  result  that  the  unhappy  beast  was 
fairly  hustled  back  into  the  boiling  stream. 

Here  the  second  rapid  claimed  him ;  and  excitement 
became  intense  ;  for  the  fate  of  a  year  hung  trembling  in 
the  balance.  There  was  no  shouting  now ;  but  a  breath- 
less expectant  silence.  Only  the  river, — full  of  sound  and 
fury, — babbled  unceasingly  to  the  majestic  sky. 

The  moment  of  uncertainty  was  short  as  it  was  tense. 
Once  more  the  brave  black  head  appeared,  a  blot  on  the 
foam -flecked  surface,  no  longer  battling,  with  dilated 
nostrils,  against  fearful  odds ;  but  lying  sideways,  inert 
.  .  .  lifeless  ;  .  .  .  and  a  prolonged  outburst  of  shouting, 
clapping,  and  huzzaing  informed  the  echoing  hills  that  the 
great  spirit  of  rivers  and  streams  had  accepted  the  sacri- 
fice ;  that  the  luck  of  the  State  was  established  for  twelve 
good  months  to  come. 

"  Poor  beast,  poor  plucky  beast ! "  Quita  murmured 
rebelliously.  Her  sympathies  had  been  strangely  stirred ; 
and  an  unbidden  moisture  clouded  her  eyes.  In  that 
hapless  drowned  buffalo  she  beheld,  not  a  mere  dead 
animal,  but  one  victim  the  more  to  the  eternal  law  of 
sacrifice: — the  law  that  makes  one  man's  suffering  the 
price  of  another  man's  gain ; — the  law  that  lies  at  the  root 
of  half  the  tragedy  of  the  world.  "  How  happy  they  all 
are ! "  she  went  on.  "  That  Eajah  boy  is  delighted.  They 
have  no  imaginations  these  people.  So  much  the  better 
for  them!" 

By  now  the  shamianah  hummed  with  talk  and  laughter 
and  congratulation  on  the  outcome  of  the  M&la.  Every 
one  had  risen  ;  and  Desmond  turned  with  the  rest  to  add 
his  quota  to  the  polite  speeches  that  were  the  order  of  the 
moment. 

But  Quita,  still  intent  upon  the  stirring  scene  without, 
moved  forward  a  little  space  to  obtain  a  better  view  of 
the  river  and  the  crowd.  Lenox  followed  her  ;  and  with 


114  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

a  start  she  became  aware  that  he  was  standing  almost  at 
her  elbow ;  though  still  a  little  behind  her,  so  that  she 
must  turn  if  she  wanted  to  see  his  face. 

"Are  you  wishing  you  could  put  some  of  that  on 
canvas  ? "  he  asked  in  a  voice  that  he  vainly  strove  to 
render  natural. 

"  Yes.  It  would  be  such  a  triumphant  riot  of  colour. 
But  I'm  afraid  it  would  look  crude  and  impossible  in  any 
frame  except  the  frame  of  an  Indian  sky." 

She  did  not  turn  in  speaking ;  but  the  softness  of  her 
voice  soothed  his  chafed  spirit  like  a  benediction,  and 
robbed  him  for  the  moment  of  all  power  to  reply. 

"  I  was  really  trying  to  stamp  it  all  on  my  memory," 
she  went  on  after  a  pause.  "  It  is  a  sight  one  doesn't  see 
twice  in  a  lifetime.  Just  for  a  few  seconds  it  was  terrible. 
But  I  would  not  have  missed  it  for  the  world." 

"  Nor  I.  Now  that  I  am  here,  I  feel  grateful  to  the 
Desmonds  for  persuading  me  to  come." 

"  Did  they  have  to  drag  you  here  by  main  force  ? " 

"Not  quite!  I  thought  I  had  better  stay  and  grind 
at  my  book;  that  was  all.  But  they  wouldn't  hear 
of  it." 

"  Do  you  always  obey  their  orders  implicitly  ? "  There 
was  veiled  scorn  in  her  tone,  and  a  new  warmth  in  his  as 
he  replied : 

"  I  would  do  any  mortal  thing  they  asked  me  to,  within 
reason.  In  all  my  life  no  two  people  have  been  so  good 
to  me." 

"  You  evidently  admire  her  very  much."  The  stress  on 
the  pronoun  was  too  delicate  to  catch  his  notice. 

"  I  do,  immensely.  How  could  any  man  in  his  senses 
do  otherwise  ?  Or,  for  that  matter,  any  woman  either  ? 
I  hoped — I  thought — you  would  have  been  good  friends 
with  her." 

He  spoke  his  honest  enthusiasm  in  the  simple  desire 
that  she  should  share  it.  But  her  nerves  were  still 
strung  to  concert  pitch,  and  he  had  struck  the  wrong  note. 

"You  thought  her  many  virtues  might  have  an  im- 
proving effect  on  me,  I  suppose?" 

The  scorn  was  no  longer  veiled :  and  he  winced 
under  it. 


JUST    IMPEDIMENT.  115 

"  No  :  only  it  occurred  to  me  that  the  two  ....  best 
women  I  have  ever  known  might  reasonably  have  a  good 
deal  in  common." 

"It  is  kind  of  you  to  couple  me  with  her.  I  am 
flattered,  I  assure  you ! — But,  personally,  I  prefer  some- 
thing less  exalted;  something  more  human,  more  fal- 
lible. .  .  ." 

"  Perhaps  that  explains  your  predilection  for  Garth  ? " 
he  broke  in  abruptly,  pricked  to  resentment  by  her  per- 
sistent note  of  mockery. 

"  I  am  not  aware  that  my  friendship  with  Major  Garth 
requires  any  sort  of  explanation." 

She  was  rigid  now  —  face,  voice,  figure :  his  golden 
opportunity  gone  past  recall.  Men  pay  as  dearly  for 
sins  of  ignorance  as  for  the  baser  kinds  of  trespass :  and 
the  man  who  does  not  understand  women  is  almost  worse, 
in  their  esteem,  that  the  man  who  treats  them  ill. 

"  Is  it  wise — for  your  own  sake  .  .  to  be  so  careless  of 
your  good  name  ? "  he  persisted  desperately ;  goaded  by 
the  knowledge  that  he  would  not  soon  get  speech  of  he 
again. 

"  Possibly  not.  But  I  don't  feel  called  upon  to  retire 
into  a  convent,  or  to  advertise  the  fact  that  I  am  not  .  .  . 
'on  the  market.'  Nor  do  I  choose  to  have  my  conduct 
called  in  question  by  any  man  living." 

She  faced  him  now ; — defiant,  a  bright  spot  on  either 
cheek. 

And  before  he  knew  how  to  answer  her,  Colonel  May- 
hew  was  upon  them,  overflowing  with  cheerful  raillery, 
and  radiantly  unaware  that  he  had  stepped  into  a  powder 
magazine. 

Long  before  the  returning  procession  reached  the  Eesi- 
dency,  Quita  had  repented  of  her  little-minded  display  of 
irritation,  consoling  herself  with  the  resolve  that  she  would 
atone  for  it  next  time ;  whereas  Lenox  had  decided  that 
for  once  Honor  Desmond's  intuition  was  at  fault :  that  it 
needed  no  '  bogey  of  heredity '  to  widen  the  impassable 
gulf  dividing  him  from  his  wife. 


116  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 


CHAPTEK   XI. 

"  0  all  that  in  me  wanders,  and  is  wild, 
Gathers  into  one  wave,  and  breaks  on  thee." 

— PHILLIPS. 

IN  the  deep  heart  of  Kalatope  Forest,  where  the  trees  fall 
apart  as  if  by  unanimous  consent,  the  natural  glade  of 
Kajiar  lies  like  a  giant  emerald  under  a  turquoise  sky. 
Peace  broods  over  this  sanctuary  of  Nature's  making, 
dove-like,  with  folded  wings.  No  lightest  echo  of  the 
world's  turmoil  and  strife  disturbs  the  stillness.  Only  at 
dawn  and  dusk,  the  thin  note  of  the  temple  bell,  the 
chanting  of  priests,  and  the  unearthly  minor  wail  of 
conches,  announce  the  downsitting  and  uprising  of  the 
little  stone  image  of  godhead,  housed  in  a  picturesque 
temple  that  nestles  among  low  trees,  beside  the  Holy 
Lake,  at  the  southern  end  of  the  glade. 

For  Hindus  are  the  most  devout  Nature- worshippers 
on  the  face  of  the  earth.  To  them,  beauty  of  place  trans- 
lates itself  as  God's  direct  cry  to  the  soul;  and  in  the 
isolated  glade  of  Kajiar,  with  its  sweep  of  shelving  turf, 
its  encircling  pines  and  deodars,  and  its  towering  snow- 
peaks  standing  sentinel  in  the  north,  —  deity  reigns 
supreme;  deity  and  the  great  grey  ape  of  the  Hima- 
layas. 

Only  for  one  week  in  the  year  does  Kajiar  spring  full- 
fledged  into  a  place  of  human  significance.  From  Dal- 
housie,  on  the  one  hand,  and  from  Chumba  on  the  other, 
a  light-hearted  crowd  of  revellers  profanes  the  quiet  of 
earth  and  sky.  On  the  outskirts  of  the  forest  tents  spring 
up,  like  mushrooms,  in  a  night ;  the  devotional  voices  of 
the  temple  are  drowned  in  the  clamour  of  bugles,  the 
throb  of  racing  hoofs,  the  challenging  gaiety  of  the  band, 
and  the  heart-stirring  wail  of  the  Eoyal  Chumba  Pipers ; 
wiry  hill-men,  in  kilts  and  tartans; — the  pride  of  the 
young  Kajah's  heart. 

The  '  Kajiar  week '  is  the  central  event  of  Dalhousie's 
season : — an  Arcadian  revel  of  perfumed  shadow,  and  sun- 
warmed  earth ;  a  carnival  of  camp-life ;  ushering  in  the 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  117 

gloom  of  the  Great  Kains ; — the  triple  tyranny  of  mist, 
mildew,  and  mackintoshes.  And  early  on  the  morning 
after  the  M&la, — while  the  breath  of  night  still  lingered 
in  gorges  and  ravines,  and  in  shadowed  patches  of  the 
ascending  path,  a  mixed  procession  of  men  and  horses, 
shuffling  mules,  and  trotting  coolies  wound,  snake-like, 
out  of  the  Chumba  valley  towards  Kalatope  Forest  and 
the  emerald  glade. 

All  the  Eajah's  party  was  mounted,  save  Mrs  Mayhew 
and  the  medical  missionary's  wife,  who  preferred  the 
leisurely  ease  of  their  dandies:  and  in  the  van  of  the 
procession,  a  hundred  yards  and  more  in  advance  of  it, 
Quita  rode  with  James  Garth. 

Her  husband's  bearing  throughout  the  previous  evening 
had  convinced  her  that  their  passage  of  arms  in  the 
shamianah  had  killed  the  budding  possibility  of  a  better 
understanding  between  them  :  and  the  fact  that  she  was 
to  blame,  did  not  make  the  knowledge  easier  to  bear. 
For  she  knew  now — knew  consciously — that  she  craved 
the  love  and  admiration  of  this  big  silent  husband  of  hers, 
as  she  had  never  yet  craved  anything  in  earth  or  heaven : 
that  his  mere  presence  disturbed  every  fibre  of  her  in  a 
fashion  she  had  ; hitherto  believed  impossible;  that  his 
aloofness  drew  and  held  her,  as  no  other  man's  ardour  had 
ever  done.  These  two  days  of  closer  contact,  of  hearing 
his  voice,  of  watching,  without  seeming  to  watch,  the 
familiar  movements  of  his  face  and  figure,  had  waked  to 
conscious  life  germs  that  had  long  lain  at  her  heart, 
quickening  in  darkness. 

But  pride  was  a  stubborn  element  in  her.  Where  she 
gave  greatly,  she  demanded  greatly.  The  fact  that  he 
had  taken  her  to  task  bred  a  suspicion  that  she  had  been 
sought  out  for  that  purpose,  not  because  he  could  no 
longer  keep  away :  and  his  evident  determination  to 
give  her  no  chance  of  retrieving  the  damage  done  in  a 
moment  of  irritation,  brought  her  near  to  defiance, — the 
danger-point  of  her  nature.  Hence  renewed  encourage- 
ment of  Garth,  with  intent  to  italicise  her  Declaration  of 
Independence ;  and  with  a  half-acknowledged  hope  that 
Lenox  might  be  goaded  by  jealousy  to  renewed  remon- 
strance. 


118  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

And  Garth, — who  was  used  to  the  bestowal,  rather 
than  the  receipt  of  favours, — accepted  this  woman's  en- 
couragement as  gratefully  as  an  enamoured  subaltern. 
Desmond's  recent  tactics  had  but  served  to  convince  him 
that  the  walls  of  Jericho  must  be  carried  by  assault. 
Whatever  the  outcome,  the  thrill  of  conquest  must  at 
least  be  his. 

The  six-foot  roadway  up  to  Kajiar  gave  him  ample 
excuse  for  riding  needlessly  close  to  his  companion ;  and 
he  inclined  himself  closer  in  talking,  thus  giving  a  pro- 
vocative flavour  to  ordinary  speech. 

"  I  think,  in  common  fairness,  it  is  my  turn  for  an 
innings  again, — don't  you  ? " 

She  laughed,  and  lifted  her  shoulders,  evading  direct 
reply. 

"Does  that  mean  that  you  care  nothing,  one  way  or 
other?"  There  was  smothered  passion  in  his  tone. 

"  And  if  it  does  ?— What  then  ? " 

"  Gad !  How  coolly  you  stab  a  poor  devil,  whose  worst 

sin  is  that  he  is  in "  But  before  the  word  was  out, 

she  checked  him  sharply. 

"  Major  Garth ! — How  dare  you  ? " 

Her  white-hot  anger  seared  both  his  vanity  and  his 
heart.  But  he  had  courage  of  a  sort :  and  he  stood  his 
ground. 

"  A  man  in  my  case  will  dare  anything.  Besides,  you 
have  insight  enough  to  have  known  it  these  many  weeks ; 
and  why  should  the  plain  statement  anger  you,  when 
evidently  the  plain  fact  does  not? — Tell  me  that." 

The  question  smote  her  to  silence.  For  she  could  not 
tell  him  :  neither  could  she  answer  hotly  and  break  with 
him  for  good.  Throughout  the  coming  week,  at  least, 
their  intimacy  must  remain  intact ;  and  beyond  it  her 
mind  refused  to  look.  She  saw  herself  caught  in  a  tangle 
of  her  own  making :  a  hot  wave  of  vexation  at  her  help- 
lessness, at  her  cruelly  false  position,  fired  her  face  from 
chin  to  brow. 

But  Garth,  noting  the  phenomenon,  interpreted  it  other- 
wise. 

"  You  find  my  riddle  unanswerable  ? "  he  questioned  al- 
most tenderly :  and  was  met  by  a  lightning-flash  of  denial. 


JUST    IMPEDIMENT.  119 

"  No.  By  no  means !  The  answer  is  simple  enough. 
Unhappily  you  cannot  wipe  out  —  the  fact.  But  you 
can  avoid  expressing  it :  and  you  must, — unless  you  are 
prepared  to  lose  everything." 

"  By  Jove,  no ! — I  keep  what  I  have  gained, — at  any 
price.  And  at  least  your  proffer  of  friendship  gives  me 
better  right  to  monopolise  you  than  that  chap  Desmond 
can  lay  claim  to.  But  he  appears  to  be  privileged." 

"  He  is  privileged." 

"  How  so  ? " 

"  Simply  by  being  the  right  sort  of  man." 

Garth  scrutinised  her  keenly. 

"  And  a  V.C.  into  the  bargain  —  eh  ?  I  don't  mind 
betting  that's  half  the  attraction.  Just  a  showy  bit  of 
pluck,  dashed  off  at  a  hot-headed  moment  —  and  you 
women  turn  a  man  into  a  god  on  the  strength  of  it !  The 
fellow  got  his  chance,  and  took  it — that's  all." 

It  is  of  the  nature  of  small  minds  to  disparage  great 
ones;  and  in  general  Quita  would  have  dismissed  the 
matter  with  a  light  retort.  But  in  her  present  mood,  the 
man's  petty  personalities  jarred  more  than  usual.  "I 
think  we  won't  discuss  Captain  Desmond,"  she  said  with- 
out looking  round.  "To  pick  holes  in  a  man  of  that 
quality  only  seems  to  accentuate  one's  own  littleness." 

'  Yours — or  mine  ? " 

'Both." 

'  By  Jove — but  you're  frank ! " 

'  Have  you  ever  known  me  otherwise  ?  " 

'  Can't  say  I  have. — But  I'm  hanged  if  I  know  what's 
come  to  you  these  last  two  days !  Except  that  you 
are  always  far  too  alluring  for  my  peace  of  mind,  you 
hardly  seem  like  the  same  woman." 

The  truth  of  his  assertion  wrenched  her  back  to  a  lighter 
mood. 

"  What  an  alarming  accusation !  Is  any  healthily 
intelligent  and  progressive  human  being  ever  the  same 
for  many  weeks  together?  Change  —  readjustment  — 
is  the  keynote  of  life;  the  very  breath  of  it.  When 
you  can  accuse  me  of  not  changing  I  shall  know  that  I 
have  fallen  into  the  sere  and  withered  leaf  past  redemp- 
tion. And  now  that  I  have  explained  myself  —  (prob- 


120  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

ably  to  your  more  complete  confusion !) — we'll  have  a 
short  canter  to  blow  away  cobwebs.  The  road  is  rather 
less  breakneck  just  here." 

A  flick  of  the  whip  sent  Yorick  forward  at  a  bound ; 
and  Garth — stifling  unheroic  qualms — could  not  choose 
but  follow  her  daring  lead. 

Throughout  the  remaining  eight  miles  neither  her  tongue 
nor  her  spirit  flagged;  and  for  the  man  at  least  the  journey's 
end  came  too  soon. 

It  was  a  transformed  Kajiar  that  basked  in  the  full  glory 
of  noon,  as  they  emerged  from  the  forest,  and  drew  rein 
on  the  high  ground  behind  the  little  wooden  rest-house, 
to  enjoy  a  few  moments'  survey  of  the  brilliant  scene. 

At  the  far  end,  around  the  Rajah's  private  chalet,  the 
native  camp  was  fast  springing  into  life.  While,  down  in 
the  northern  hollow,  where  white  tents  clustered  thickest, 
lay  the  big  general  camp ;  the  core  of  all  things  social  and 
frivolous. 

Hurdles,  water  jumps,  and  a  long  tent  pavilion  had 
changed  the  centre  of  the  glade  into  a  racecourse,  where 
subalterns,  undaunted  by  a  blazing  sun,  were  practising 
ponies  for  forthcoming  gymkhanas.  Goal-posts  were  already 
fixed  for  the  great  yearly  football  match  between  Chumba 
and  Dalhousie ;  in  which  contest  victory  was  by  no  means 
always  to  the  West,  since  Jeff  Bathurst,  a  famous  per- 
former, trained  and  captained  the  Chumba  team :  and  in 
another  part  of  the  green,  three  wooden  sign -posts  of 
unequal  height  gave  promise  of  tilting  matches  to  come. 

Couples  and  groups,  in  the  lightest  of  muslins  and 
flannels,  sauntered  idly  in  the  scented  shadow  of  the 
pines;  or  lounged,  smoking  and  talking,  on  the  warm 
green  earth. 

The  appeal  of  the  whole  was  to  a  spirit  of  enjoyment 
pure  and  simple,  to  the  casting  aside  of  care  and  thought ; 
a  passing  respite  from  the  shadow  of  the  future :  and 
Quita's  native  zest  for  happiness  urged  her  to  instant 
response. 

"  Unborn  To-morrow,  and  dead  Yesterday, 
Why  fret  about  them,  if  To-day  be  sweet," 

she  quoted  softly.    "  That  is  clearly  the  motto  of  the  week ; 


JUST    IMPEDIMENT.  121 

and  it  looks  as  if  every  one  intended  to  live  up  to  it, — 
conscientiously." 

Garth  saw  his  advantage  and  pressed  it  home. 

"You  and  I  among  the  number,  eh?  At  least  we  under- 
stand one  another,  which  is  more  than  most  of  those 
philandering  couples  do.  Why  shouldn't  we  make  the 
most  of  our  seven  golden  days  and  leave  next  week  to 
look  after  itself?" 

"Why  not,  indeed?" 

She  spoke  absently ;  her  eyes  resting  on  the  snow- peak 
in  the  north.  The  answer  lay  too  deep  down  for  utter- 
ance. But  Garth  took  her  enigmatical  echo  for  acquies- 
cence, and  laid  his  plans  accordingly. 

Nor  were  these  two  the  only  pair  who  arrived  at  Garth's 
philosophical  conclusion.  Life  was  fulfilled,  for  the  nonce, 
with  laughter  and  leisure ;  with  the  unchanging,  passion- 
breathing  blue  and  gold  of  a  Himalayan  June ;  and  on  all 
sides  the  charmed  circle  of  pines  and  deodars  shut  them 
off  from  the  forgotten  world  and  '  them  that  dwell  therein.' 

Atmosphere,  circumstance,  and  her  own  half-awakened 
heart  conspired  with  Michael  Maurice  to  draw  Elsie 
down,  by  slow  and  delicious  degrees,  from  the  small 
pedestal  whereon  she  had  taken  refuge  since  the  night  of 
the  Palace  dinner;  till  all  unaware,  she  acceded  to  his 
fantastic  notion  of  shutting  the  door  upon  Wisdom.  Nor 
was  it  long  before  those  whose  profit  and  pleasure  it  is  to 
make  capital  out  of  their  neighbours'  doings  had  assured 
themselves  and  each  other  that  the  'week'  would  be 
responsible  for  two  engagements  at  least. 

Such  talk  did  not  readily  reach  Lenox's  ears.  But 
Kenneth  Malcolm,  whose  aspirations  were  no  secret  to 
the  busily  idle  world  around  him,  was  speedily  enlight- 
ened :  and  there  could  be  neither  peace  nor  rest  for  him 
till  he  had  confirmation  or  denial  from  Elsie's  lips. 

Six  months  earlier  he  had  pleaded  his  cause  with  such 
halting  eloquence  as  he  could  command;  and  the  girl's 
refusal  had  been  qualified  by  a  confession  that  at  least  she 
preferred  him  to  any  other  man  of  her  acquaintance.  On 
the  strength  of  this  admission  the  boy  had  simply  stood 
aside  and  waited :  hoping,  as  only  the  young  can  hope, 


122  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

because  the  fervour  of  their  desire  renders  the  possibility 
of  non-fulfilment  unthinkable.  Then  Maurice  had  entered 
the  field,  carrying  all  before  him,  with  the  inimitable 
assurance  that  was  his;  and  by  now  Kenneth  had  reached 
the  agony -point  in  a  painful,  if  educative  experience. 
Standing  aside  was  no  longer  endurable.  By  some  means 
he  must  secure  Elsie,  if  only  for  ten  minutes,  and  discover 
the  truth. 

"  And  a  man  need  only  look  into  her  eyes  for  that,"  he 
decided,  with  a  throb  of  troubled  anticipation. 

His  opportunity  came  on  the  third  day  of  the  'week.' 
The  great  football  match  between  East  and  West  was  pro- 
gressing vigorously  to  the  tune  of  shouts  and  cheers. 
Maurice,  who  had  small  taste  for  sport,  had  gone  sketching 
with  his  sister  at  her  urgent  request ;  and  as  Elsie  settled 
herself,  with  a  book,  on  a  slope  of  hot  pine-needles,  she 
was  surprised  and  startled  to  see  Kenneth  Malcolm 
approaching  her. 

"  May  I  sit  here  for  a  little  ? "  he  asked.  "  I  have  hardly 
had  two  words  with  you  since  you  came  back  from  Chumba. 
I  suppose  you  enjoyed  it  all  tremendously  ? " 

"  Oh  yes.     It  was  delightful.     Do  sit  down." 

The  restraint  of  his  manner  was  infectious,  as  restraint 
is  apt  to  be ;  and  she  was  hampered  by  a  prescience  of 
things  to  come. 

"  I  was  awfully  keen  to  go  too,"  he  said,  as  he  obeyed 
her.  "But  perhaps  it's  just  as  well  that  I  didn't  get  the 
chance,  judging  from  .  .  .  from  what  I  hear." 

"  You  shouldn't  judge  from  what  you  hear,"  she  mur- 
mured. 

"  Shouldn't  I  ?  But  unluckily  it  fits  in  with  .  .  .  what 
I  see.  Miss  Mayhew  .  .  ."  he  pressed  forward,  his  eyes 
searching  her  face,  devout  worship  in  the  sincere  blue 
depths  of  them.  "  Will  you  be  angry  with  me,  if  I  ask 
you  a  straight  question  ? " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  And  will  you  give  me  a  straight  answer  ? " 

"  If  I  can." 

"  Is  it  true  that  you  are  likely  to  ...  marry  Maurice  ? " 

"  Not  that  I  know  of."  He  took  a  great  breath,  like  a 
condemned  man  who  hears  his  reprieve. 


JUST    IMPEDIMENT.  123 

"Then,  may  I  still  believe  .  .  .  what  you  told  me  at 
Lahore  ? " 

Her  answer  seemed  an  eternity  in  coming ;  for  a  plain 
'yes'  or  'no'  were  equally  far  from  the  truth.  This 
boy  of  four -and -twenty  gave  her  the  restful  sense  of 
reliance  and  reserve  force  that  she  so  missed  in  Maurice. 
But  there  was  no  art,  no  thrill  in  his  love-making.  It  was 
direct  and  simple  as  himself.  He  never  struck  a  chord 
of  emotion  and  left  it  quivering,  as  Maurice  had  done 
many  times. 

"  May  I  ? " — he  persisted  gently. 

"  I  still  think  you  are  ...  the  best  man  I  know,"  she 
admitted,  without  looking  at  him ;  and  he  flushed  to  the 
roots  of  his  hair. 

"But  not  the  one  you  —  care  for  most?  It's  that 
that  matters,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  I  can't  tell — truly  I  can't,"  she  pleaded  distress- 
fully. 

"Then  I  must  just  go  on  waiting." 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  even  do  that." 

"  I  can  only  prevent  it  by  putting  a  bullet  through  my 
head." 

The  quiet  finality  of  his  tone  was  more  convincing  than 
volumes  of  protestations ;  and  she  shuddered. 

"  Don't  say  such  things,  please. — You  hurt  me." 

"  I  wouldn't  do  that  for  a  kingdom.  But  it's  the  truth. 
— I  go  down  on  the  fifteenth,  you  know." 

"  Yes. — I'm  sorry." 

"  Are  you  ?  Then  why — oh,  I  don't  understand  you ! " 
he  broke  off  in  despair. 

"I'm  not  sure  that  I  understand  myself  —  yet.  It 
takes  time,  I  suppose." 

"  Not  when  the  right  chap  turns  up,  I  fancy.  But  I'll 
give  you  as  much  time  as  you  want.  I  have  a  year's  leave 
due.  Shall  I  take  it,  and  go  home  ? " 

She  looked  rueful. 

"  A  year  is  a  long  time.  But  perhaps  that  would  be 
best.  You  might  find — some  one  else  there,  who  under- 
stood herself  better." 

"That's  out  of  the  question,"  he  answered  almost 
harshly. 


124  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  But  at  all  events,— I'll  go." 

A  prolonged  silence  followed  this  statement :  and  when 
he  spoke  again,  it  was  of  other  things.  Elsie  followed 
suit :  but  the  result  was  not  brilliant.  She  endured  the 
strain  as  long  as  she  could ;  then  inventing  an  excuse,  she 
left  him ;  though,  to  her  surprise,  it  hurt  her  more  than 
she  could  have  believed  a  week  ago. 

That  afternoon,  during  the  progress  of  a  hybrid  gym- 
khana,— ranging  from  steeplechasing  to  obstacle  races  for 
men  and  natives, —  the  first  whisper  of  current  gossip 
reached  Lenox's  ears. 

Standing  behind  a  restless  row  of  hats  and  parasols,  he 
was  watching  with  some  interest  the  preliminary  canter 
of  a  horse  he  had  backed  heavily,  when  Garth  and  Quita, 
deep  in  animated  talk,  passed  across  the  line  of  chairs, 
and  a  woman  close  to  Lenox  turned  to  her  neighbour. 

"  That  match  is  a  certainty,  Mrs  Mayhew.  Say  what 
you  like.  I'm  sure  of  it.  I  only  wonder  it  hasn't  been 
given  out  before  now." 

Mrs  Mayhew  shifted  her  parasol  and  inspected  the 
retreating  pair  through  her  gold -rimmed  pince-nez,  as 
though,  by  examining  their  shoulder-blades,  she  could 
determine  the  exact  state  of  their  hearts. 

"I  don't  quite  know  what  to  think,"  she  remarked 
with  judicial  emphasis.  "  /  don't  believe  anything  is  a 
certainty  where  Major  Garth  is  concerned.  But  if  they 
are  not  engaged  they  ought  to  be !  I  don't  like  that  girl, 
though.  She  is  much  too  independent  for  my  taste ; 
and  engagement  or  no,  she  probably  let's  Major  Garth 
make  love  to  her.  He  would  never  have  stuck  to  her  for 
six  months  otherwise." 

On  the  last  words  Lenox  started  as  if  a  cold  finger-tip 
had  touched  his  heart.  Such  a  thought  had  never  oc- 
curred to  him  :  and  he  could  have  murdered,  without 
compunction,  the  small  self-satisfied  woman  who  had 
lodged  the  poisoned  shaft  in  his  mind. 

Turning  on  his  heel,  he  made  straight  for  his  tent, 
where  a  littered  camp-table  gave  proof  that  the  art  of 
taking  a  holiday  could  not  be  reckoned  among  his  accom- 
plishments. Then  he  sat  down  by  it  and  bowed  his  head 
upon  his  hands.  To  doubt  his  wife's  integrity  was  rank 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  125 

insult.  Yet  he  knew  Garth's  evil  reputation  ;  knew  also 
that  the  suggestion  would  cling  to  his  memory  like  a 
limpet,  and  torture  him  in  the  endless  hours  of  wakef  ul- 
ness  from  which  there  was  now  no  way  of  escape. 

Enforced  abstinence  from  tobacco  and  stimulants  had 
told  severely  upon  his  nerves,  appetite,  and  health ;  and 
a  foretaste  of  the  sleepless  night  ahead  of  him  tempted 
him  to  regret  his  hasty  destruction  of  the  bottle  of 
chlorodyne,  which  had  not  been  replaced. 

Till  dusk  he  worked  without  intermission ;  and,  as  if 
by  a  fiendish  nicety  of  calculation,  the  evening  mail-bag, 
— brought  out  by  runner  from  Dalhousie, — contained  the 
coveted  parcel  of  tobacco,  whose  arrival  he  had  alternately 
craved  and  dreaded  throughout  the  past  ten  days. 

Zyarulla  set  it  before  him  with  manifest  satisfaction. 

"  Now  will  my  Sahib  taste  comfort  and  peace  again,"  he 
muttered  into  the  depths  of  his  beard ;  and  having  cut 
the  strings  of  the  parcel,  discreetly  withdrew. 

For  a  while  Lenox  merely  grasped  his  recovered  treasure, 
feasting  his  soul  upon  the  knowledge  that  here,  within  the 
space  of  one  small  cube,  lay  the  promise  of  sleep,  peace  of 
mind,  oblivion.  Then,  with  unsteady  hands,  he  opened 
the  tin:  took  from  his  pocket  a  briar  of  great  age  and 
greater  virtue ;  filled  it ;  lighted  it ;  and  drew  in  the  first 
mouthful  of  aromatic  fragrance,  with  such  rapture  of 
refreshment  as  a  man,  parched  with  fever,  drains  a  glass 
held  to  his  lips. 

A  great  peace  enfolded  him :  and  no  thought  of  resist- 
ance arose  to  break  the  enchantment.  For  the  'mighty 
and  subtle '  drug  kills  with  kindness.  Coming  to  a  tor- 
mented man  in  the  guise  of  an  angel  of  peace,  it  lures 
him,  lulls  him,  and  wraps  him  about  with  false  content- 
ment before  plunging  him  into  the  pit. 

While  the  holiday  folk  trooped  into  the  long  mess-tent, 
laughing  or  lamenting  over  the  afternoon's  vicissitudes, 
Lenox  sat  at  his  table  in  shirt  and  trousers,  his  pen 
devouring  the  loose  sheets  before  him.  He  bade  Zyarulla 
bring  him  meat,  bread,  and  a  cup  of  coffee,  and  deny 
admittance  even  to  'Desmond  Sahib'  himself.  And 
throughout  the  night  he  worked,  and  smoked,  and  finally 
slept  as  he  had  not  slept  since  the  Bachelors'  Ball. 


126  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

Before  dawn  he  was  up,  and  out :  a  gun  on  his  shoulder, 
field-glasses  slung  across  his  back.  He  had  given  orders 
for  a  party  of  beaters  to  be  requisitioned,  in  his  name, 
from  the  Eajah's  camp ;  and  Zyarulla  could  be  trusted  to 
see  to  it  that  he  should  not  starve.  All  day  he  tramped 
and  climbed,  shot  and  sketched,  to  his  huge  satisfaction : 
and  returning  at  dusk,  repeated  his  programme  of  the 
night  before. 

His  departure  without  a  word  of  explanation  had 
roused  Desmond's  anxiety.  He  suspected  a  fresh  supply 
of  tobacco;  and  this  sudden  invisibility  confirmed  his 
worst  fears.  He  spoke  of  them  to  his  wife  after  breakfast : 
and  for  all  her  radiant  hopefulness  of  heart,  she  had  small 
consolation  to  offer  him. 

The  '  week's '  events  had  disappointed  her  grievously : 
for  the  deadlock  between  man  and  wife  seemed  complete. 

"  Truly,  Theo,  I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  them  both," 
she  concluded  desperately.  "  They  are  the  most  perverse 
couple  that  were  ever  invented.  Benedick  and  Beatrice 
were  turtle-doves  by  comparison  !  After  this  week  I  shall 
give  them  up  in  despair." 

"  Poor  darling !  They  ought  to  mend  their  ways,  if  only 
out  of  consideration  for  you  !  Come  on  now  and  comfort 
your  soul  with  tilting.  I  want  you  to  carry  all  before  you 
in  the  tournament." 

"  Do  you  indeed  ? "  she  answered,  laughing.  "  But  I 
shan't  hit  a  single  ring  to-day.  This  distracting  muddle 
is  getting  on  my  nerves ! " 

And  if  Honor  Desmond  found  the  strain  of  sympathetic 
anxiety  ill  to  endure,  what  of  Quita,  whose  life's  happiness 
hung  upon  the  issue  ? 

For  her  the  Kajiar  Camp,  despite  its  light -comedy 
atmosphere,  had  proved  a  nightmare  of  surface  hilarity, 
broken  rest,  and  growing  distaste  for  the  man  whose 
name  she  had  permitted  to  be  coupled  with  her  own : — 
all  to  no  purpose,  it  seemed,  save  to  inflate  his  self- 
satisfaction,  and  fortify  his  intention,  now  too  clearly 
manifest,  of  hindering  to  the  utmost  her  reunion  with  her 
husband. 

Moreover,  her  self-imposed  attitude  became  increasingly 
hard  to  maintain.  A  flash  of  defiance  is  one  thing :  but 


JUST    IMPEDIMENT.  12  7 

sustained  defiance,  when  the  heart  has  unblushingly 
gone  over  to  the  enemy,  puts  a  severe  strain  upon  the 
nerves. 

And  what  was  to  be  the  outcome  ? 

The  question  stabbed  her  in  the  small  hours,  when  ugly 
possibilities  loom  large,  like  figures  seen  through  mist. 
So  strongly  had  this  late  love  smitten  her,  that  she  had 
been  capable  of  strangling  pride,  and  taking  the  initiative, 
had  Lenox's  bearing  given  her  the  smallest  hope  of  success. 
But  unsought  surrender,  plus  the  mortification  of  failure, 
was  more  than  she  felt  prepared  to  risk,  even  for  a  chance 
of  winning  the  one  man  in  all  the  world : — the  man  who 
could  at  least  belong  to  no  other  woman,  she  assured 
herself  with  a  throb  of  satisfaction.  Thus  there  seemed 
no  choice  left  but  to  go  blindly  forward  along  the  line  of 
least  resistance. 

Lenox's  non-appearance  on  Wednesday  evening  had 
startled  her  into  fuller  knowledge  of  her  dependence  on 
his  mere  presence  to  maintain  even  a  mimicry  of  good 
spirits :  and  she  heaped  contempt  upon  her  own  head 
accordingly.  Nevertheless  she  escaped  at  an  early  hour ; 
and  lay  awake  half  the  night  tormenting  herself  with 
unanswerable  problems. 

When  breakfast  brought  no  sign  of  him,  she  concluded 
that  he  must  have  returned  to  Dalhousie  in  disgust :  and 
the  conclusion  brought  her  near  to  the  end  of  her  tether. 
She  took  refuge  in  her  tent,  and,  for  the  first  time  in 
many  years,  sobbed  shamelessly,  till  her  eyelids  smarted, 
and  her  head  throbbed  and  burned.  After  that  she  felt 
better,  and  her  unquenchable  courage  revived.  There  is 
much  virtue  in  your  thunder-shower  at  the  psychological 
moment !  She  got  upon  her  feet  at  last ;  hands  pressed 
against  pulsing  temples,  swaying  a  little,  like  a  willow 
that  the  storm  had  shaken.  But  cold  water,  eau-de- 
cologne,  and  the  stinging  tonic  of  self-scorn,  soon  restored 
her  to  a  semblance  of  her  normal  aspect :  and  by  lunch- 
time  she  was  out  again  in  the  mocking  sunshine,  swept 
unresisting  back  into  the  light-hearted  whirl  of  things. 

At  tiffin,  to  her  intense  relief,  Theo  Desmond  took  the 
empty  chair  next  her  own.  He  had  missed  her  during  the 
morning :  and  a  glance  at  her  face  sufficed  to  give  him  an 


128  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

inkling  of  the  truth.  All  his  heart  went  out  to  her ;  and 
he  hastened  to  answer  the  question  in  her  eyes. 

"Lenox  went  off  at  sunrise,  for  a  day's  shooting,"  he 
remarked  conversationally,  when  they  had  exchanged 
greetings. 

She  lifted  her  eyebrows.  "  Did  he  ?  Sensible  man ! 
I  suppose  he  is  tired  to  death  of  our  frivolous  fooling." 

"  That's  rather  severe  !  I  can't  let  you  run  him  down. 
The  other  thing's  more  in  his  line,  that's  all ;  and  it'll  do 
him  a  power  of  good.  He  suffers  cruelly  from  want  of 
sleep,  poor  chap. — By  the  way,  have  you  heard  the  latest 
suggestion  for  to-morrow  ? " 

"  No.     I  was — lying  down  this  morning.     What  is  it  ? " 

"  A  burlesque  polo  match :  ladies  against  men :  the 
men  to  play  on  side-saddles  by  way  of  a  mild  handicap ! 
Some  of  the  older  folk  are  a  bit  horrified  at  the  notion. 
But  I  believe  it'll  come  off;  and  they  want  me  to  captain 
the  team." 

"  You  ?  One  of  the  champions  of  the  Punjaub  !  What 
impertinence  !  Shall  you  ? " 

"  Why,  certainly.     It  will  be  rather  a  lark." 

"  Well,  then,  I'll  play  too,  if  they'll  have  me.  Will  you 
ask  them,  please  ? " 

He  regarded  her  in  frank  astonishment.  "  Jove !  I 
never  thought  of  that.  Are  you  in  earnest?" 

"But  yes.  In  cut -throat  earnest!"  she  answered, 
laughing. 

"  Ever  tried  your  hand  at  it  ? " 

"  Never,  in  all  my  days.  I  will  this  afternoon  though, 
if  you'll  take  me  in  hand  for  an  hour  or  so." 

"  With  all  the  pleasure  in  life.  You  can  ride  Diamond, 
if  you  like.  He  knows  almost  as  much  about  the  game 
as  I  do." 

Her  eyes  sparkled. 

"  That  gem  of  an  Arab  ?  May  I,  really  ?  "  I  always 
thought  you  were  a  man  in  a  hundred ;  and  now  I  know 
it!  That's  a  bargain,  then.  Things  have  been  deadly 
insipid  the  last  two  days.  But  I  have  something  to  live 
for  now ! " 

Garth  received  her  announcement  with  open  dismay. 
He  suspected  Desmond's  influence :  and,  in  his  zeal  to 


JUST    IMPEDIMENT.  129 

dissuade  her,  ventured  on  a  mild  tone  of  authority,  with 
disastrous  results. 

"Well,  I  shan't  have  a  comfortable  moment  till  the 
thing  is  safely  over,"  he  concluded  unwisely:  and  she 
tossed  an  indignant  head. 

"  Am  I  such  a  despicable  horseman  ? "  she  demanded 
haughtily.  "Captain  Desmond  doesn't  find  me  so,  I 
assure  you." 

And  indeed,  after  an  hour  of  assiduous  instruction, 
Desmond  had  frankly  expressed  his  approval  both  of  her 
aptness  and  daring. 

When  Lenox  heard  the  news  on  Friday  morning,  he 
heartily  wished  he  had  decided  on  a  second  day's 
shooting. 

Anxiety  apart,  the  knowledge  that  the  woman  he  loved 
could  thus  make  a  public  exhibition  of  herself  for  the 
amusement  of  a  very  mixed  crowd  grated:  set  the  fas- 
tidious, old-world  temper  of  the  man  on  edge.  For  all 
that  he  was  in  his  place,  well  before  the  appointed 
time:  and  from  the  first  crack  of  polo-stick  on  ball  his 
eyes  never  left  his  wife's  flushed  face  and  lightly  swaying 
figure. 

The  polo  ground,  occupying  the  centre  of  the  glade,  was 
ringed  about  by  a  crowd  as  varied  and  gay  in  colouring 
as  a  bed  of  mixed  tulips  in  spring.  Even  the  open  tent, 
where  the  English  spectators  were  gathered,  showed  a  pre- 
vailing lightness  and  brightness  of  tint.  On  the  farther 
side  of  the  tent,  the  Depot  band  gave  out  a  cheerful 
blare  of  sound;  and  a  June  sun  beamed  complacently 
over  all. 

For  the  first  twenty  minutes  the  serio-comic  game 
went  forward  merrily :  the  women  playing  in  desperate 
earnest;  the  men  making  broad  farce  out  of  their  ludicrous 
handicap. 

Quita,  who  had  elected  to  play  Diamond  first  and  fourth, 
was  restrained  at  the  outset  by  the  fact  that  she  was 
handling  a  priceless  pony.  But,  with  the  opening  of 
the  third  chukkur,  increasing  self-confidence,  coupled 
with  the  pace  and  keenness  of  Bathurst's  '  Unlimited 
Loo,'  fired  her  venturesome  spirit :  and  she  flung  herself 

I 


130  THE    GREAT   AMULET. 

heart  and  soul  into  the  intoxication  of  the  game;  half 
hoping  that  some  sudden  crash  and  fall  might  solve  the 
problem  of  her  life  by  the  simple  expedient  of  putting 
out  the  light. 

More  than  once  Desmond  called  out  an  unheeded 
warning.  He  saw  that  pony  and  rider  alike  were  in 
danger  of  losing  their  heads  ;  and  Lenox,  leaning  forward 
in  an  anguish  of  suspense,  followed  her  every  movement 
with  conflicting  fury  and  admiration. 

At  last  the  chukkur  drew  to  an  end. 

Away  by  the  farthest  goal -posts  a  fine  parody  of  a 
scrimmage  was  in  progress,  Desmond  and  Quita  being 
'  on  the  ball.'  The  advantage  was  hers  ;  and  she  made 
haste  to  secure  it.  Eising  in  the  saddle,  she  swung  her 
stick  for  an  ambitious  back-handed  stroke,  missed  the 
ball,  and  smote  '  Unlimited  Loo/  with  the  full  force  of 
her  arm,  high  up  on  the  off  hind-leg. 

At  this  uncalled  bolt  from  the  blue,  the  sensitive 
animal, — who  had  never  in  all  his  days  been  chastised 
by  a  polo  stick  for  doing  his  simple  duty, — lost  his  head 
outright.  His  first  bound  snapped  the  curb  chain ;  and 
taking  the  bit  between  his  teeth  he  bolted  across  the 
green  as  if  all  the  fiends  in  hell  were  after  him.  In 
vain  Quita  sat  back,  and  put  her  whole  light  weight 
into  her  arms.  Sheer  terror  had  caught  hold  of  him: 
and  he  headed  blindly  for  the  ring  of  natives,  who  broke 
away  right  and  left,  with  shrill  cries  that  gave  the  finish- 
ing touch  to  his  terror. 

And  now  no  more  than  a  stretch  of  shelving  turf  lay 
between  him  and  the  unfathomed  lake.  Towards  it  he 
fled  at  an  undiminished  pace:  and  Quita,  sitting  square 
and  steady,  with  a  rushing  sound  in  her  ears,  foresaw  that 
in  less  than  five  minutes  her  mad  hope  might  be  terribly 
fulfilled.  For  at  the  lake's  edge  the  pony  must  needs 
swerve  sharply,  or  come  to  a  dead  halt:  and  in  either 
case,  at  their  present  rate  of  speed,  she  would  be  flung 
violently  out  of  the  saddle. 

Desmond  dared  not  follow,  lest  he  make  matters  worse. 

Maurice  sprang  up  from  his  seat  in  the  pavilion,  and 
stood  transfixed,  helpless.  "  Nom  de  Dieu  .  .  .  que  faire  ? 
JSlle  va  mourir ! "  he  muttered  with  shaking  lips :  and 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  131 

Elsie,  child  as  she  was,  yearned  over  him  with  all  the 
tenderness  and  pity  of  inherent  motherhood. 

Then  the  tall  figure  of  Lenox  broke  away  from  the 
stunned  crowd  racing  diagonally  across  the  clear  stretch 
between  the  pony  and  the  lake. 

The  instant  Quita  missed  her  stroke  he  had  risen  to 
his  feet;  and  his  intent  now  was  to  reach  a  given  spot 
simultaneously  with  the  pony,  and  by  the  force  of  his 
added  weight  on  the  reins  save  the  situation. 

A  shout  of  approval  went  up  from  soldiers  and  natives : 
and  'Unlimited  Loo'  fled  faster.  He  passed  the  point 
Lenox  was  making  for  a  bare  hand's-length  out  of  reach : 
but  two  strides  landed  him  on  a  treacherous  strip  of  thinly- 
crusted  bog  that  encircles  the  lake,  and  he  sank  up  to  his 
knees  in  semi-liquid  mud. 

Quita,  breathless  and  shaken,  was  jerked  out  of  the 
saddle,  and  must  have  fallen,  ignominiously,  face  down- 
ward in  her  Slough  of  Despond,  but  that  Lenox, — 
reaching  her  in  the  nick  of  time — caught  and  crushed 
her  in  his  arms. 

"  You're  not  hurt.  Thank  God,  you're  not  hurt,"  he 
whispered  unsteadily. 

With  a  gasp  of  amazement  that  ended  in  a  sob,  she 
leaned  her  cheek  against  his  coat :  and  the  riotous  music 
of  their  hearts  seemed  to  fill  the  universe. 

Then  reality  rushed  in,  and  shattered  the  dream.  For 
Garth,  Maurice,  and  Bathurst  were  hurrying  towards 
them. 

Quita  felt  her  husband  stiffen,  and  lifted  her  head. 

"  Thank  you — thank  you,"  she  said  with  a  twisted  smile. 
"  I  think  I  can  stand  on  my  feet  now." 

In  two  strides  he  was  clear  of  the  mud,  and  had  set 
her  on  firm  earth.  But  she  was  still  clinging  to  his  arm 
when  Garth  came  up,  brimming  with  concern. 

"  I'm  quite  disappointingly  all  right,"  she  assured  him 
hastily,  stung  by  a  keen  sense  that  her  catastrophe  had 
fallen  headlong  from  impending  tragedy  to  bathos. 
"  Please  bestow  all  your  sympathy  on  Mr  Bathurst, 
and  Unlimited  Loo!" 

For  a  second  Garth  looked  up  at  the  man  who  stood 
beside  her ;  but  only  for  a  second.  For  in  the  Scotch- 


132  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

man's  eye  hate  gleamed  like  a  naked  sword ;  and  Garth 
had  small  taste  for  bared  weapons  of  any  kind. 

"Ah,  mon  pauvre  Michel !  "  Quita  exclaimed,  in  a  quick 
rush  of  tenderness,  as  her  brother  half  ran  to  her,  white 
and  panting,  both  hands  outstretched :  and  deserting 
Lenox,  she  flew  to  him,  anathematising  her  own  folly 
in  a  rapid  flow  of  French.  "  Take  me  to  my  tent  now," 
she  concluded,  linking  her  arm  in  his.  "  I  still  feel 
idiotically  shaky,  and  I  am  certainly  no  loss  to  my 
side  ! — Mr  Bathurst " — she  turned  in  Jeff's  direction — 
"  please  forgive  me.  I  promise  I'll  never  ask  you  to 
lend  me  a  polo  pony  again!" 

Bathurst, —  who  had  rescued  his  treasure,  and  was 
feeling  him  all  over  with  skilled  hands, —  shouted  a 
cheery :  "  Don't  mention  it,  Miss  Maurice.  Always  glad 
to  oblige  a  lady ! " 

And  with  a  tired  smile  she  turned  back  to  Michael. 

"  Viens,  mon  cher"  she  said  gently ;  and  he  led  her 
away. 

Conscious  of  Garth's  eyes  on  her  face,  she  could  not 
trust  herself  to  look  again  at  Lenox,  who  had  neither 
moved  nor  spoken  since  he  set  her  on  dry  ground.  But 
that  one  moment  in  his  arms  had  solved  her  problem  in 
a  fashion  that  she  dreamed  not  of:  a  fashion  that  still 
seemed -past  belief.  She  knew  now  that  she  had  never 
lost  him ;  and  her  heart  sang  a  Jubilate  Deo  all  the  way 
to  her  tent.  But  she  knew  also  that  his  pride  equalled 
hers ;  that  the  first  move  was  '  up  to  her ' ;  and  that  now, 
at  last,  she  might  make  it  without  fear  of  rebuff.  But 
how — how  ? 

Ten  minutes  later  Maurice  left  her  prostrate,  in  the 
twilight  of  her  tent ; — eau  de  cologne  on  her  temples,  and 
a  chaos  of  mixed  emotions  at  her  heart. 


JUST    IMPEDIMENT.  133 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  How  the  world  seems  made  for  each  of  us  ; 
How  all  we  perceive  and  know  in  it 
Tends  to  some  moment's  product, — thus, 
When  the  soul  declares  itself;  to  wit, 
By  its  fruit :  the  thing  it  does." 

— BROWNING. 

QUITA  lacked  courage  to  appear  again  in  public  till  the 
dinner  bugle  sounded.  Garth  was  her  promised  partner : 
and  she  found  him  awaiting  her  just  outside  her  tent. 

"  My  turn  now,  dear  lady,"  he  said,  pressing  her  finger- 
tips against  his  side,  as  he  took  her  proffered  arm.  "  It 
has  been  a  blank  afternoon  for  me ;  but  in  revenge,  I 
mean  to  keep  you  all  the  evening." 

"  You  are  presumptuous,  as  always  !"  she  answered  with 
admirable  lightness.  "  Your  claim  ends  with  desert." 

"  Quite  so.  But  you  are  generous ;  and  I  can  trust  the 
rest  to  you,  since  you  know  how  much  I  want  it." 

She  smiled,  as  in  duty  bound.  But  to-night  the  man's 
facile  gallantry  revolted  her  as  it  had  never  yet  done 
She  wondered  how  she  had  endured  it  these  many  months. 

The  instant  they  entered  the  long  tent  her  eyes  sought 
and  found  the  thing  they  craved :  though  the  -sight  of 
Lenox  in  his  accustomed  place  between  the  Desmonds 
reawakened  her  smouldering  jealousy  of  Honor,  and  gave 
the  lie  to  her  amazing  instant  of  revelation.  But  once 
during  the  meal  she  encountered  her  husband's  eyes. 
It  was  as  if  he  had  put  out  a  hand  and  touched  her ; 
and  her  partner's  veiled  love-making  became  a  meaning- 
less murmur  at  her  ear.  Yet  the  surface  of  her  brain 
travelled  mechanically  along  the  beaten  track  of  dinner- 
table  talk :  and  Garth,  finding  her  gentler  and  more 
serious  than  her  wont,  deemed  his  hour  of  triumph 
very  near  at  hand.  Direct  encouragement,  in  the  face 
of  his  hidden  knowledge,  had  strengthened  his  conviction 
that  for  many  weeks  she  had  been  stifling  her  true  feel- 
ings; that  one  touch  at  the  right  moment  would  suffice 
to  lift  the  veil,  to  bring  her  at  last  into  his  arms.  Beyond 
that  moment  of  mastery  he  did  not  choose  to  look.  For 


134  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

to-night  passion  had  elbowed  prudence  out  of  the  field. 
He  had  claimed  her  for  the  evening ;  and  he  anticipated 
great  things  from  the  next  two  hours  under  the  stars. 

At  these  informal  camp  dinners  men  and  women  left 
the  table  together :  only  habitual  card-players  remaining 
behind  to  tempt  fortune  until  the  small  hours.  Quita's 
hope  had  been  that  Desmond  might  come  to  her  aid.  But 
he  had  made  up  a  rubber  of  whist ;  and  to  her  dismay, 
she  saw  Lenox  and  Honor  depart  without  him.  Garth, 
who  also  noted  their  movements,  carefully  led  her  round 
to  the  far  side  of  a  blazing  bonfire,  piled  ten  feet  high  on 
this  last  night  of  Arcadia;  and  with  a  suppressed  sigh 
she  resigned  herself  to  an  evening  of  comic  songs  and 
personalities ;  and  decided  that  a  headache  must  rescue 
her,  if  no  other  champion  were  forthcoming. 

It  was  a  clear  night  of  stars.  The  moon  had  not 
yet  risen ;  though  a  herald  brightness  gave  news  of  her 
coming.  No  least  whisper  of  wind  stirred  the  tree-tops. 
Sun-baked  fir  branches  crackled  and  snapped  like  fairy 
musketry;  and  many-hued  flames, —  rose  and  saffron, 
heliotrope  and  sea-green, — played  hide-and-seek  among 
them,  flinging  inverted  shadows  on  faces  nearest  the 
blaze. 

Human  beings  break  into  song  round  a  bonfire  as 
naturally  as  birds  after  a  shower  of  rain ;  and  for  those 
who  see  in  such  a  fire  no  mere  holocaust  of  dead  twigs, 
but  the  Eed  Flower  of  the  Jungle,  the  symbol  and  spirit 
of  wild  life,  this  spontaneous  minstrelsy  has  a  charm 
peculiarly  its  own.  A  charm  of  the  simplest,  certainly ; 
for  at  camp-fires  the  banjo  reigns  supreme ;  and  the  aptest 
songs  are  those  that '  rip  your  very  heartstrings  out '  and 
offer  fine  facilities  for  effervescing  between  the  verses. 

Already  a  remarkable  assortment  of  these  had  challenged 
the  winking  stars ;  and  Quita  was  encouraging  the  requi- 
site headache,  while  Garth  contemplated  the  suggestion  of 
a  stroll  towards  the  lake,  when  Michael  Maurice  came  up 
to  them. 

"  Quita,  chtrie,  they  have  sent  me  to  ask  if  you  will  sing. 
I  have  my  fiddle  here  for  accompaniment." 

She  hesitated.  A  rare  shyness,  born  of  the  afternoon's 
fiasco,  was  still  upon  her. 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  135 

"  Who  sent  you  ? "  she  asked,  smiling  up  at  him. 

"  Colonel  Mayhew,  and  several  others."     He  bent  lower. 
"  Tu  es  trop  fatigude  apres  ce  vilain  polo  ?  " 
•  "  Non,  ce  riest  pas  pa  .  .  .  mais  .  .  ." 

"Do,  Miss  Maurice,  please,  do,"  urged  an  enthusiastic 
young  civilian  on  her  left.  "  A  woman's  voice,  especially 
yours,  would  be  a  rare  treat  after  our  promiscuous 
shouting." 

And  on  her  other  side  Garth,  pressing  closer,  whispered 
his  plea. 

"  Don't  disappoint  me.  It  is  ages  since  I  last  heard  you 
sing." 

Without  answering  either,  she  touched  her  brother's 
arm.  "Tune  up,  Michel,"  she  said  low  and  hurriedly. 
"I  have  thought  of  a  song." 

Garth  murmured  his  thanks  with  unusual  empressement. 
Her  instant  acquiescence  had  both  moved  and  flattered 
him ;  and  his  hopes  rode  high.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  she 
had  not  even  heard  his  request.  She  had  simply  obeyed 
an  impulse,  as  in  most  crises  of  her  life ; — an  impulse  so 
peremptory  that  it  seemed  almost  a  command  from 
Beyond. 

"What  song  is  it  to  be?"  Maurice  asked,  when  the 
tuning  process  was  complete. 

"  Swinburne's  '  Ask  Nothing  More.' " 

He  raised  his  eyebrows.     "  A  man's  song  ? " 

"  Yes.  But  you  know  I  often  sing  it ;  and  I  want  to  ... 
to-night." 

"  Qu'y  a-t-il,  petite  sceur  ? "  he  asked,  for  her  manner 
puzzled  him. 

"  Rien  .  .  .  rien  de  tout.     Commence." 

And  he  played  the  soft  chords,  pregnant  with  pleading, 
that  usher  in  the  song. 

A  moment  later,  Lenox,  leaning  back  in  a  canvas  chair, 
sat  upright,  and  took  the  cigar  from  his  lips. 

"  A  woman  singing  ?  Jove — it's  Quita ! "  he  added  under 
his  breath.  Then  he  remained  motionless,  straining  his 
eyes  for  a  sight  of  her  between  the  dancing  flames. 

Clear  and  unfaltering  her  voice  soared  into  the  night ; 
and  as  the  song  swept  on,  through  pleading  to  impassioned 
longing,  the  whole  awakened  heart  of  her  took  fire  from 


136  THE    GREAT    AMULET. 

the  poet's  faultless  phrases ;  till,  in  the  last  verse,  it  spoke 
straightly  and  simply  to  her  husband,  as  though  they  two 
stood  alone  in  the  interstellar  spaces  of  the  universe. 

"  I  who  have  love,  and  no  more, 
Give  you  but  love  of  you,  sweet ; 
He  that  hath  more,  let  him  give  ; 
He  that  hath  wings  let  him  soar. 
Mine  is  the  heart  at  your  feet  .  .  . 
Here  that  must  love  you  .  .  .  love  you,  to  live  ! " 

The  last  stupendous  chords  crashed  into  silence;  and 
the  fall  of  a  charred  twig  sounded  loud  in  the  pause  that 
followed.  Then  there  came  from  the  shadowy  circle  of 
listeners  no  clatter  of  hands  and  voices,  but  a  low  dis- 
joined murmur; — the  very  attar  of  applause. 

But  by  that  time  Quita  was  making  her  way  blindly 
through  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd  into  the  blessed  region 
of  darkness  and  stars. 

For,  as  the  last  words  left  her  lips,  the  full  apprehension 
of  her  act  and  its  possible  consequences  submerged  her 
in  a  red-hot  wave  of  shame  and  self-consciousness ;  and 
before  Garth  had  recovered  himself  sufficiently  to  rise 
and  make  the  request  that  hovered  on  his  lips,  she  was 
gone.  For  a  space  he  sat  still,  lost  in  an  amazement  that 
swelled  to  exultation  as  the  conviction  grew  in  him  that 
at  last,  after  long  and  laudable  repression,  her  heart  had 
spoken,  indirectly,  yet  unmistakably;  that  now,  scandal 
or  no  scandal,  he  must  make  her  altogether  his. 

And  while  he  sat  stunned  to  inaction  by  the  vital  issues 
at  stake,  Quita  hurried  on  toward  the  temple,  with  no  pur- 
pose in  her  going  save  to  escape  from  the  consciousness  of 
human  presence.  She  stood  still  at  length,  and  wrung  her 
hands  together. 

"  Oh,  but  it  was  folly — worse  than  folly  !  He  will  only 
think  me  hateful, —  theatrical.  He  will  never  under- 
stand." 

Yet  if,  by  miraculous  chance,  he  did  understand  .  .  . 
what  then  ?  She  held  her  breath  and  waited ;  till  the 
night  seemed  alive  with  voices  that  laughed  her  to 
scorn. 

The  new-risen  moon  hung  low  as  if  caught  and  tangled 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  137 

among  the  tree  -  tops  of  the  forest  that  broke  up  her 
golden  disc  in  fantastic  fashion.  Away  there  by  the 
bonfire  some  one  else  was  singing  now ;  a  song  with  a 
boisterous  chorus.  Her  mad  impulse  had  simply  been 
added  to  the  mass  of  ineffectual  things  that  form  the 
groundwork  of  our  rare  successes. 

Suddenly  she  started,  and  raised  her  head.  The  sound 
she  desired  yet  dreaded  was  close  at  hand.  He  was 
coming  to  her.  He  must  have  understood.  And  because 
she  needed  all  her  courage  to  face  him,  she  did  it  at  once ; 
for  nothing  saps  courage  like  hesitation. 

Then  her  heart  stood  still ;  a  chill  aura  swept  through 
her  and  she  shivered.  The  dark  figure  nearing  her  was 
not  Lenox.  It  was  Garth. 

But  that  all  power  of  initiative  seemed  gone  from  her, 
she  must  have  turned  and  fled.  Instead  she  stood  her 
ground,  without  motion  or  speech ;  and  he,  still  misread- 
ing her,  held  out  his  arms. 

"Quita  .  .  .  darling  .  .  ."  he  began,  his  voice  thick 
with  passion. 

But  her  name  on  his  lips  roused  her  like  a  pistol-shot. 

"  Go  back  .  .  .  please  go  back,"  she  cried  imperatively. 
"  I  came  away  because  I  wanted  ...  to  be  alone." 

"  But  I  thought  .  .  ." 

"  I  can't  help  what  you  thought !  If  you  have  any — 
respect  for  me  at  all,  you  will  do  what  I  ask." 

"  Of  course.  Only  I  shall  see  you  again  to-night.  I 
must." 

"No  ...  no.    Not  to-night." 

"  To-inorrow  then  ? " 

But  she  had  already  left  him ;  and  for  his  part,  he  must 
needs  return  the  way  he  came, — frustrated,  yet  not  en- 
lightened ;  cursing,  in  no  measured  terms,  the  unfathom- 
able ways  of  women.  No  doubt  she  was  upset,  unstrung 
by  the  knowledge  of  all  that  her  confession  implied ;  and 
woman-like,  showed  small  regard  for  his  consuming  im- 
patience to  possess  her.  But  to-morrow  he  would  ride 
home  with  her.  And  after  that — the  Deluge! 

Quita  left  alone  again  went  forward  with  lagging  feet, 
and  a  heart  emptied  of  hope.  Her  own  disappointment 
crowded  out  all  thought  of  Garth's  unusual  behaviour; 


138  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

till  renewed  steps  behind  her  suggested  the  astonishing 
possibility  that  he  had  dared  to  disregard  her  request, 
and  followed  her,  in  spite  of  all.  The  suggestion  roused 
not  fear,  but  anger,  and  the  militant  spirit  of  independence 
that  circumstances  had  so  fostered  in  her. 

She  knew  now  that  she  hated  him,  as  we  only  hate 
those  whom  we  have  wronged.  It  was  intolerable  that 
he  should  persecute  her  against  her  wish ;  and  she  swung 
round  sharply,  with  words  of  pitiless  truth  on  her  lips. 

But  the  night  seemed  marked  for  the  unexpected  : — and 
now  it  was  joy  incredible  that  fettered  her  tongue  and  her 
feet,  while  her  husband  hastened  forward,  his  face  clearly 
visible  in  tke  growing  light. 

"  I  followed  that  fellow  when  he  went  after  you,"  he 
said  bluntly,  anger  smouldering  in  his  tone.  "  And  I  saw 
him  leave  you.  Did  you  send  him  away  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  Why  ? " 

"  I  didn't  want  him." 

"  Does  that  apply  to  me  also  ? " 

"No  ...  please  stay." 

There  fell  a  silence  pregnant  with  things  unutterable. 
Lenox  came  closer. 

"  What  possessed  you  to  sing  that  song, — in  that  way 
— Quita  ? " 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  spoken  her  name,  and  she 
turned  from  him,  pressing  her  fingers  against  flaming 
cheeks. 

"  Oh,  I  am  burnt  up  with  shame !  I  feel  as  if  I  had 
told  all  of  them." 

"Told  them— what?" 

"  Mon  Dieu  I    Will  you  compel  me  to  say  everything  ? " 

She  flung  out  both  hands,  and  he  caught  and  crushed 
them  till  she  winced  under  the  pressure.  Then,  holding 
her  at  arm's-length,  he  looked  searchingly  into  her  eyes. 

And  while  they  stood  so — in  this  their  first  instant  of 
real  union,  that  dwarfed  the  years  between  to  a  watch  in 
the  night — each  was  aware  of  the  other's  answering  heart ; 
and  in  each,  love  burnt  with  so  flame-like  a  quality  that 
neither  speech  nor  touch  was  needed  to  seal  the  intimacy 
of  contact. 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  139 

At  length  he  drew  her  nearer. 

"Does  it  frighten  you  now  when  I  look  right  into 
you  ? "  he  asked,  an  odd  vibration  in  his  voice. 

"No  ...  no.  I  am  only  afraid  you  may  not  see  deep 
enough." 

He  drew  a  great  breath. 

"  Thank  God  for  that.  But  tell  me, — for  I  am  still  in 
the  dark, — how  on  earth  has  such  a  miracle  come  to 
pass  ? " 

Her  low  laugh  had  a  ring  of  inexpressible  content. 

"  Dearest,  and  blindest !  Did  it  never  occur  to  you  that 
you  could  not  have  laid  a  surer  trap  to  win  me  than  by 
just  keeping  clear  of  me,  and  living  in  ...  that  Mrs 
Desmond's  pocket?" 

He  shook  his  head,  smiling  down  at  her.  Her  old 
subtle  charm  with  this  strange  new  tenderness  superadded, 
was  working  like  an  elixir  in  his  veins. 

"  But  what  does  the  how  of  it  matter,  after  all  ? "  she 
went  on,  leaning  closer,  and  speaking  low  and  fervently. 
"  Isn't  it  enough  that  I  love  you  with  all  there  is  of  me 
.  .  .  Eldred ;  that  I  ask  you  to  believe  me,  and  to  make 
me  ...  your  very  wife.  There :  you  have  compelled  me 
to  say  everything !  Are  you  satisfied  now  ? " 

To  such  a  question  he  could  find  no  answer  in  words. 
But  his  silence  was  cardinal.  He  put  an  arm  round  her, 
straining  her  close,  and  with  a  sigh  of  sheer  rapture  she 
lifted  her  face  to  his. 

Their  eyes  met.  Then  their  lips;  and  Eldred  Lenox 
entered  into  a  knowledge  that  he  dreamed  not  of.  The 
whole  soul  of  his  wife  came  to  him  in  that  kiss ;  and  for 
a  long  minute  ecstacy  held  them. 

Then  he  released  her,  slowly  .  .  .  reluctantly. 

"  Shall  we  sit  out  here  ? "  he  said.  "  The  whole  camp 
will  soon  be  asleep;  but  I  can't  let  you  go  yet." 

She  sank  down,  forthwith,  upon  the  grassy  slope,  in 
which  the  fire  of  a  June  sun  still  lingered ;  and  clasping 
her  hands  about  her  knees,  looked  up  at  him  invitingly. 
By  way  of  response  he  stretched  himself  full  length,  a 
little  below  her,  resting  on  his  elbow  in  such  a  position 
as  afforded  him  a  clear  view  of  her  profile,  that  gleamed, 
like  a  cameo  against  a  background  of  deodars. 


140  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

"  Smoke,"  she  said  softly. 

"  No.     I  think  not." 

His  tone  had  a  touch  of  constraint,  and  a  long  silence 
fell. 

The  strange  solitude  about  them  was  no  stranger  than 
the  enchantment  of  being  alone  in  it  together ;  and  there 
was  that  in  their  hearts  that  made  speech  difficult. 

They  sat  looking  northward  toward  the  moonlit  hollow 
where  the  station  camp  clustered  close  to  the  forest's  edge. 
Behind  the  camp  —  a  mass  of  unbroken  shadow  —  it 
climbed  up  and  upward  to  the  mystery  of  a  sky,  powdered 
with  the  gold-dust  of  faint  stars,  on  which  its  jagged  out- 
line was  printed  black  as  ink.  Beyond  that  again,  one 
majestic  snow-peak, — like  a  stainless  soul  rising  out  of  a 
tomb, — gleamed  in  the  light  of  an  increasingly  brilliant 
moon.  The  crowd  round  the  bonfire  had  crumbled  into 
a  hundred  insignificant  seeming  units ;  and  the  fire  itself, 
no  longer  aspiring  to  the  stars,  glowed  like  an  angry  eye 
in  the  dusky  face  of  the  glade. 

Presently  Quita  spoke. 

"  There  is  so  endlessly  much  to  say,  that  I  don't  know 
where  to  begin.  And  after  all,  I  am  utterly  content  just 
to  feel  that  you  are  there;  that  I  have  really  got  you 
back  at  last." 

"  You  have  had  me,  body  and  soul,  these  five  years,"  he 
answered  simply.  "  It  is  I  who  have  gained  you,  by 
some  miracle  of  your  womanhood  that  I  shall  never 
fathom." 

"  If  you  set  it  down  to  your  own  manhood,  you  might 
be  nearer  the  mark.  You  are  very  much  too  humble, 
Eldred  ;  and  I  love  you  for  it, — always  did." 

"  Always  ? " 

"  I  verily  believe  so." 

"  Good  God  !  I  never  misjudged  you,  did  I  ?  If  you 
.  .  cared  then,  why  ever  did  you  leave  me  ? " 

"  Because  you  gave  me  no  time  to  take  it  in.  But  I 
am  sure  now  that  the  germ  was  there.  I  think  your 
.  .  kisses  must  have  waked  it  into  life.  That  was  why 
they  upset  me  so.  And  when  I  came  back,  I  meant  to 
...  Oh  why  should  we  rake  it  all  up  again  ?  It  hurts 
too  much." 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  141 

"  But  I  must  know  everything  now,  Quita.  You  meant 
to  tell  me, — was  that  it  ? " 

"  Yes.  Though  I  own  it  was  rather  late  in  the  day. 
Then  you  sprang  it  upon  me  with  that  letter.  I  detest 
the  man  who  wrote  it,  and  I  always  shall.  There  was 
just  enough  of  truth  in  it,  and  in  your  bitter  reproaches, 
to  make  me  feel  the  hopelessness  of  lame  explanations. 
Besides,  your  anger  frightened  me,  though  I  didn't  show 
it ;  and  I  simply  acted  on  a  blind  impulse  to  escape  from 
the  unknown  things  ahead ;  to  get  back  to  the  love  and 
work  I  could  understand." 

"  My   poor  darling !     What  a   blackguard   I   was   to 

you!" 

"  Hush  !    You  are  not  to  say  that." 

"  I  will.  It's  true.  But  .  .  .  didn't  you  care  a  great 
deal  for  the  other  chap  ? " 

"  I  imagined  I  did.  Girls  can't  always  analyse  new 
feelings  of  that  sort.  I  can  see  now  that  it  was  chiefly 
mental  sympathy  between  us  ;  on  my  side  at  least.  But 
I  only  discovered  that  when  the  real  thing  came — in  a 
flash." 

"  When  was  that  ? "  he  asked  on  a  note  of  eagerness. 

"  One  May  morning  on  the  Kajiar  road  !  I  knew  then 
that  I  must  have  cared  always,  without  guessing  it.  But 
your  coolness  roused  my  pride  ;  and  I  vowed  that  if  you 
had  wiped  me  out  of  your  heart,  I  would  die  sooner  than 
let  you  suspect  my  discovery.  Yet  all  the  while  I  longed 
for  you  to  know  it;  and  in  the  end,  goaded  by  your 
blindness,  and  your  astonishing  want  of  conceit,  I  break 
my  pride  into  a  hundred  little  bits.  Ai-je  ttt  assez 
femme  ? "  she  concluded  with  a  whimsical  smile. 

One  of  her  hands  lay  on  the  grass  beside  him.  He 
covered  it  with  his  own. 

"And  was  the  amazing  discovery  responsible  for  the 
Garth  episode  ? "  His  tone  had  a  hint  of  anxiety. 

"  For  the  latter  part  of  it,  yes ;  though  we  have  been 
friends  all  the  winter.  He  is  at  least  moderately  intelli- 
gent ;  and  an  intelligent  egoist  is  always  interesting. 
Besides,  companionship  is  the  breath  of  life  to  me,  you 
understand  ;  and  I  seldom  manage  to  make  friends  with 
women." 


142  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  The  other  kind  of  friendship  is  an  edged  tool." 

"  And  therefore  irresistible  !  It's  like  fencing  with  the 
buttons  off  the  foils." 

"  You  speak  from  much  practical  experience  ? " 

"  Yes.  I  have  had  my  share  of  it.  But  please  believe 
me,  Eldred," — she  hesitated, — "  I  have  been  as  loyal  to 
you  in  word  and  deed,  all  these  years,  as  if  I  had  borne 
your  name,  and  lived  under  your  roof.  In  spite  of  my 
weakness  for  edged  tools,  I  have  never  let  any  man  tell 
me  that  he  loved  me  since  you  told  me  so  yourself,  in  the 
dark  ages.  And  if  a  few  have  wanted  to  do  so,  I  could 
hardly  help  that,  could  I  ? " 

"  No  more  than  you  could  help  breathing  or  sleeping," 
he  answered  with  a  slow  strong  pressure  of  her  hand. 

"  I  know  I  ought  not  to  have  let  Major  Garth  see  so 
much  of  me  after  I  saw  how  it  was  with  him,  but — since 
it's  the  whole  truth  to-night — I  confess  your  aloofness 
hurt  me  so,  that  I  wanted  to  see  if  I  could  rouse  you  to  a 
spark  of  feeling  by  hurting  you  back,  and  I  chose  the 
weapon  readiest  to  my  hand." 

"  You  struck  deep  with  it.  Does  the  knowledge  give 
you  any  satisfaction  ? " 

"  It  fills  my  cup  of  shame  to  overflowing.  Yet, — come 
to  think  of  things,  you  did  much  the  same  without  realis- 
ing it." 

"  Which  makes  a  vast  difference,  surely  ? " 

"  Not  to  me,  mon  ami.  It  is  only  God  who  judges  by 
the  intention  ;  possibly  because  He  never  suffers  from  the 
action." 

"  Quita  !     That's  irreverent ! " 

"  Is  it  ?  I'm  sorry  if  it  sets  your  Scottish  prickles  on 
end  !  Are  you  ...  a  very  religious  man,  Eldred  ?" 

"  I  believe  in  God,"  he  answered  simply. 

A  short  silence  followed  the  statement.  Then  Quita 
spoke. 

"  But  you  see,  don't  you,  dear  man,  that  I  spoke  truth. 
My  pain  was  none  the  less  sharp  because  you  inflicted  it 
unwittingly.  It's  one  of  the  things  people  are  apt  to  forget." 

"  Your  pain  ?  Before  God  I  never  dreamed  that  any 
act  of  mine  could  give  you  a  minute's  uneasiness ;  though 
Mrs  Desmond  . 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  143 

"  Don't  begin  about  Mrs  Desmond,  please  ! "  She  drew 
her  hand  away  with  a  touch  of  impatience.  "  She  is 
everything  that  is  perfect,  of  course.  But  I  hate  her ; 
and  I  believe  I  always  shall." 

Lenox  turned  on  his  elbow  and  looked  up  into  her 
face. 

"  My  dear  ...  I  can't  let  you  speak  so  of  my  best 
friend.  We  owe  her  everything,  you  and  I.  You  shall 
hear  about  it  all  one  of  these  days.  And  apart  from  that, 
she  is  .  .  ." 

"  Yes,  yes.  I  can  see  what  she  is,  clearly  enough.  A 
superbly  beautiful  woman,  outside  and  in,  who  possesses  a 
good  deal  of  influence  over  you.  I  can  be  just  to  her,  you 
see,  if  I  am  .  .  .  jealous." 

"  Jealous  ?  Nonsense.  The  word  is  an  insult  to  her, 
and  to  me." 

She  reddened  under  the  reproof  in  his  tone. 

"  Forgive  me.  I  didn't  mean  it  so.  I  am  only  afraid 
that  after  close  intimacy  with  her  you  will  find — your  wife 
rather  a  poor  thing  by  comparison.  Just  the  '  eternal 
feminine '  with  all  an  artist's  egoism,  and  more  than  the 
full  complement  of  faults." 

She  spoke  so  simply,  and  with  such  transparent  sincer- 
ity, that  again  he  turned  on  her  abruptly  ;  his  smoulder- 
ing passion  quickened  to  a  flame. 

"  Quita  .  .  .  you  dear  woman  ...  if  I  could  only 
make  you  realise  .  .  . ! " 

But  long  repression,  and  the  knowledge  that  was  pois- 
oning his  perfect  hour,  constrained  him  to  reticence.  He 
dared  not  let  himself  go. 

"  I  think  I  do  realise  .  .  .  now  .  .  ."  she  whispered, 
stirred  to  the  depths  by  the  repressed  intensity  of  his 
tone. 

"  Then  don't  belittle  yourself  any  more.  I  forbid  it. 
You  understand  ? " 

Again  he  heard  the  low  laugh  on  which  her  soul  seemed 
to  ride.  Then,  leaning  impulsively  down  to  him,  she  put 
her  bare  arms  round  his  shoulders  from  behind,  and 
rested  her  cheek  upon  his  hair. 

The  man  held  his  breath,  and  remained  very  still,  as  if 
fearful  lest  word  or  movement  should  break  the  spell. 


144  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

After  five  years  of  unloved  loneliness,  this  first  spontan- 
eous caress  from  his  wife,  with  its  delicate  suggestion  of 
intimacy,  seemed  to  break  down  invisible  barriers  and  set 
new  life  coursing  in  his  veins. 

"  You  forbid  it  ? "  she  echoed,  on  a  tremulous  note  of 
happiness.  "  And  you  have  the  right  to.  You,  and  no 
one  else  in  all  the  world !  You  laughed  at  me  in  the  old 
days  —  do  you  remember?  —  for  clutching  at  my  inde- 
pendence. Well,  I  have  had  my  surfeit  of  it  now ;  and 
I  am  desperately  tired  of  standing  alone  .  .  .  darling." 

She  paused  before  the  unfamiliar  word,  unconsciously 
accentuating  its  effect,  and  Lenox,  taking  her  two  hands 
in  one  of  his  own,  kissed  them  fervently.  The  moment 
he  dreaded  was  upon  him,  and  in  the  face  of  her  impas- 
sioned tenderness  he  scarcely  knew  how  to  meet  it. 

"  You  should  not  stand  alone  one  minute  longer,  if  I 
could  have  my  will,"  he  said  in  a  repressed  voice. 

She  lifted  her  head  and  looked  at  him. 

"  And  why  can't  you  have  your  will  ?  What  are  we 
going  to  do  about  it,  Eldred  ? " 

"  Nothing  in  a  hurry,"  he  answered  slowly.  "  We  paid 
too  dearly  for  that  last  time." 

"  But,  mon  cher  ...  we  have  waited  five  whole  years." 

"That  is  just  the  difficulty.  Five  years  of  overwork 
and  bitterness  of  spirit  are  not  to  be  wiped  out  in  a  single 
hour ;  even  such  an  hour  as  this.  The  man  you  married 
had  not  gone  through  the  fire,  and  been  badly  burned  in 
the  process." 

He  paused.  The  irony  of  their  reversed  positions 
stung  him  to  the  quick,  and  she  sat  watching  his  face. 
The  pallor  of  moonlight  intensified  its  ruggedness,  its 
deep  indentations  of  cheek  and  brow.  She  began  to  be 
aware  that  the  dropped  stitches  of  life  cannot  always  be 
picked  up  again  at  will ;  that  there  is  no  tyrant  more 
pitiless  than  the  Past ;  and  a  vague  dread  took  hold  of 
her,  sealing  her  lips. 

"  We  have  got  to  look  facts  in  the  face  to-night,"  Lenox 
went  on  with  the  doggedness  of  his  race.  "  I'm  a  poor 
hand  at  discussing  myself.  It's  an  unprofitable  subject. 
But  I  can't  let  you  rush  headlong  into  a  reunion  that 
may  prove  disastrous  ...  for  you.  To-night's  revela- 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.    •  145 

tion  has  astounded  me.  It  isn't  easy  to  get  one's  bear- 
ings all  at  once ;  but  before  we  take  any  further  irretriev- 
able step  I  am  bound,  in  conscience,  to  tell  you  how  the 
land  lies.  When  you — repudiated  me,  I  accepted  your 
decision  as  final.  I  never  dreamed  of  your  coming  back ; 
and  I  acted  accordingly.  I  took  to  work  as  I  might  have 
taken  to  drink,  if  I  had  been  made  that  way  ;  with  the 
natural  result  that  I  ...  smoked  a  great  deal  too  much, 
and  slept  too  little.  I  saw  no  earthly  reason  to  husband 
my  strength,  or  my  life;  and  in  consequence,  I  have 
gained  something  of  a  reputation  for  tackling  dangerous 
and  difficult  jobs.  There's  plenty  more  work  of  the  kind 
ahead,  with  the  forward  policy  in  full  swing ;  and  one 
can't  go  back  on  all  that  has  been  done.  You  see  that, 
don't  you  ? " 

"  Yes.     But  couldn't  I  ever  go  with  you  ? " 

He  smiled.  "  I  believe  you  have  grit  enough !  But  it 
would  be  unheard  of.  Besides  .  .  .  there  is  another 
trouble,  and  a  very  serious  one,  blocking  the  way." 

"  You  will  tell  me  what  it  is  ? " 

He  did  not  answer  at  once.  To  blacken  himself  de- 
liberately in  the  eyes  of  the  woman  he  loves  is  no  light 
ordeal  for  a  man;  and  Lenox  shrank  from  it  with  the 
peculiar  sensitiveness  of  a  nature  at  once  humble  and 
proud ;  the  more  so  since  to-night  had  brought  home  to 
him  the  heart-breaking  truth  that  in  "  the  devil's  wedlock 
of  evil  and  pain  "  one  can  never  suffer  alone. 

But  a  great  love  had  been  given  him,  and  a  force 
stronger  than  his  will  impelled  him  to  speak  truth,  even 
at  the  cost  of  losing  it. 

"  Yes  ...  I  will  tell  you  what  it  is,"  he  said  slowly, 
looking  straight  before  him.  "You  have  the  right  to 
know." 

And  in  a  few  blunt  words,  unsoftened  by  excuse  or 
justification,  he  told  her,  not  the  fact  only,  but  his  dread 
of  its  far-reaching  effect. 

"And  it  seems  plain  as  daylight  to  me,"  he  added 
bitterly,  "  that  a  man  so  cursed  has  no  right  to  multiply 
misery  by  taking  a  woman  into  his  life.  That  was  the 
real  reason  why  I  kept  clear  of  you  latterly,  and  tried  to 
thank  God  that  you  did  not  care." 

K 


146  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

He  could  not  trust  himself  to  look  round  at  her  face, 
but  he  felt  her  lean  close  to  him  again.  For  the  unob- 
trusive strength  of  the  man  stood  revealed  in  his  confes- 
sion ;  and  it  is  woman's  second  nature  to  admire  strength. 

"  Eldred,  .  .  .  my  husband,"  she  breathed,  her  voice 
breaking  on  the  word.  "How  cruelly  you  must  have 
suffered !  And  it  was  all  my  fault." 

There  spoke  the  woman  ! — intent  upon  the  individual ; 
blind  —  wilfully  or  otherwise  —  to  the  larger  issues  in- 
volved. 

"  It  was  not  your  fault,"  he  answered  with  smothered 
vehemence.  "And  in  any  case,  don't  you  see,  it's  no 
question  of  blame,  but  of  consequences.  And  we  dare  not 
shut  our  eyes  to  them.  For  this  business  of  marriage  is 
a  complicated  affair.  What's  more,  I  believe  the  wrench 
of  immediate  separation,  with  the  comparative  freedom  it 
involves,  would  come  less  hard  on  you  in  the  long-run, 
than  actual  marriage  with  a  man  of  my  stamp. — Oh,  you 
would  find  me  a  sorry  bargain  all  round,  I  assure  you," 
he  concluded  with  a  short,  hard  laugh.  "  And  you  will 
do  well  to  think  twice  before  you  burn  your  boats  for 
me!" 

She  slid  lower  down  the  slope,  and  laid  one  hand  on  his 
knee. 

"  I  don't  choose  to  think  twice ;  and  I  have  burnt  my 
boats  as  it  is  !  Besides  .  .  .  you  will  be  strong  to  con- 
quer your  trouble,  now  you  know  that  all  my  happiness 
depends  upon  it."  She  paused  for  an  appreciable  moment. 
"  We  seem  to  have  changed  places  since  that  long-ago 
morning,  Eldred.  It  is  I  who  want — to  begin  now — on 
any  terms." 

He  put  out  his  arm,  and  drew  her  very  close  to  him. 

"  Eeckless  as  ever ! "  he  chided  without  severity.  "  You 
dismissed  me  on  an  impulse ;  and  now  you  would  take 
me  back  again  with  the  same  stupendous  disregard  for 
results.  It  is  very  evident  you  need  some  one  to  look 
after  you,  and  teach  you  common-sense." 

"  I  have  told  you  already  who  it  is  that  I  need.  Isn't 
that  enough  ? " 

The  thrill  in  her  low  tone  set  all  the  man  in  him  on 
fire.  The  influence  of  the  hour  was  strong  upon  him. 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  147 

"  My  God ! "  he  muttered  under  his  breath.  "  How  can 
mere  flesh  and  blood  hold  out  against  you  ? " 

"Must  you  hold  out  against  me — even  after  what  I 
said  ? " 

She  nestled  nearer,  and  stray  tendrils  of  hair  softly 
brushed  his  cheek.  His  lips  whitened,  but  he  set  them 
close.  Her  touch,  the  perfume  of  her  passion,  had  their 
exalting  effect  on  him.  Her  weakness  challenged  his 
strength. 

"  Yes ;  I  must,"  he  answered  quietly.  "  For  your  sake, 
my  dear,  and  for  my  own  self-respect.  I  am  fighting  this 
thing,  you  understand,  with  every  weapon  at  my  com- 
mand. And  until  I  see  my  way  clear  out  on  the  other 
side,  I  will  not — I  dare  not — take  you  back.  Now  come. 
It  is  high  time  you  were  asleep.  We  can't  stay  out  here 
together  all  night." 

"  We  have  every  right  to  ...  if  we  choose,"  she  mur- 
mured, still  rebellious. 

"  You  forget,  I  am  to  teach  you  common-sense !  There 
is  to-morrow  to  be  thought  of,  and  your  long  ride  back  to 
Dalhousie." 

A  small  shiver  ran  through  her. 

"  I  am  afraid  of  to-morrow.  I  shall  wake  up  and  feel 
as  if  all  this  had  been  a  dream.  When  shall  I  see  you 
again  .  .  .  alone  ? " 

"  I  will  come  up  and  call  on  you  the  day  after ! "  he 
said,  assuming  a  deliberate  lightness  in  sheer  self-defence. 
"  Don't  let  me  find  Garth  there,  though ;  or  I  warn  you 
I  shall  not  be  accountable  for  my  behaviour ! " 

He  rose  on  the  words,  and  lifted  her  to  her  feet.  They 
descended  the  slope  in  silence,  walking  a  little  apart,  as 
if  accentuating  the  fact  that  their  reunion  in  this  June 
night  of  enchantment  and  faint  stars  was  an  incomplete 
thing  after  all. 

The  moon  was  near  her  zenith  ;  and,  outside  the  form- 
less dark  of  the  forest,  the  great  glade  held  her  radiance 
as  a  goblet  holds  wine.  Past  the  half-hidden  temple  of 
the  holy  lake  they  moved  leisurely  towards  the  cluster  of 
tents  that  showed  like  a  pallid  excrescence  at  the  forest's 
edge.  To-night  again,  as  on  that  earlier  unforgettable 
day,  they  seemed  the  only  living  beings  in  a  world  of 


148  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

shadows  and  folded  wings ;  and  the  decree  of  separation, 
coming  at  such  a  moment,  put  a  severe  strain  on  their 
self-control. 

Fifty  feet  from  Quita's  tent  they  stood  still. 

She  held  out  her  hands.  He  pressed  them  closely  be- 
tween his  own,  that  were  strangely  cold,  and  lifted  them 
to  his  lips.  Then  she  swayed  forward  unsteadily ;  and  in 
an  instant  her  face  was  hidden  against  his  shoulder,  her 
whole  frame  shaken  with  soundless  sobs. 

A  woman  in  tears  sets  even  a  case-hardened  man  at 
a  disadvantage ;  and  Lenox,  confronted  with  the  phe- 
nomenon for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  experienced  a  sense 
of  helpless  bewilderment,  coupled  with  a  vague  convic- 
tion of  his  own  brutality  in  having  brought  this  happy- 
hearted  wife  of  his  to  such  a  pass.  He  could  not  guess 
that  after  a  week  of  ceaseless  tension,  played  out  with  no 
little  fortitude,  this  moment  of  unrestraint  came  as  a  pure 
relief  to  her  overwrought  nerves ;  a  relief  that  verged 
upon  ecstasy,  since  her  husband's  arm  was  round  her,  his 
hand  mechanically  stroking  her  hair. 

"  Hold  up,  hold  up,"  he  urged  her  gently.  "  This  sort 
of  thing  will  never  do." 

But  control,  once  lost,  is  ill  to  regain.  His  words  pro- 
duced no  visible  effect,  for  in  her  momentary  abandon- 
ment, she  could  not  see  his  face ;  or  guess  at  the  struggle 
that  was  enacting  behind  its  curtain  of  self-mastery. 
And  now,  to  discomfiture  was  added  an  overpowering 
temptation  to  trample  on  all  scruples  of  conscience  ;  to 
take  that  which  was  his,  without  further  let  or  hindrance  ; 
and  put  an  end  to  their  distracting  situation  once  for  all. 

"  Quita,  .  .  .  my  darling  wife  .  .  . ! "  he  broke  out 
desperately.  "  For  Heaven's  sake  pull  yourself  together. 
You  are  torturing  me  past  endurance.  Do  you  suppose  it 
is  an  easy  thing  ...  to  let  you  go  ? " 

She  raised  her  head  at  that,  compressing  her  lips  to 
still  their  tremor. 

"Forgive  me,  .  .  .  dearest.  It  was  stupid  of  me  to 
make  a  fuss.  I  will  go  now ;  and  I  promise  not  to  behave 
like  this  again." 

She  deliberately  drew  his  head  down  to  her  own ;  and 
they  kissed,  once.  Then  she  left  him,  something  hur- 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  149 

riedly ;  and  he  stood  transfixed  looking  after  her,  till  the 
falling  flap  of  the  tent  hid  her  from  view. 

There  could  be  no  thought  of  sleep  for  Eldred  Lenox 
that  night. 

Till  the  moon  slipped  behind  the  pines,  and  the  sentinel 
snow-peak  in  the  North  caught,  and  flung  back,  the  first 
glimmer  of  dawn,  he  paced  the  empty  glade  from  end  to 
end.  His  mouth  and  throat  were  parched.  His  every 
nerve  clamoured  for  the  accustomed  narcotic.  But  pipe 
and  tobacco-pouch  reposed  in  his  breast-pocket — un- 
touched. 


CHAPTEK   XIII. 

"  Ah,  Love,  but  a  day, 

And  the  world  has  changed  ! " 

— BROWNING. 

AN  early  return  journey  had  been  advocated  by  all  ex- 
perienced weather  prophets  of  the  mushroom  colony  of 
Kajiar.  The  great  monsoon  was  already  rolling  up  from 
the  coast-line,  and  at  any  moment  might  break  in  thunder 
over  the  hills. 

By  eight  of  the  morning  tent-poles  were  swaying  and 
falling  on  all  sides  :  and  the  wide  glade  that  had  slept  in 
silver  when  Quita  parted  from  her  husband,  was  astir 
from  end  to  end.  From  every  corner  came  the  brisk 
insistent  tapping  of  hammers  on  tent-pegs;  the  shrill 
neighing  of  ponies,  and  shriller  chatter  of  coolies,  bargain- 
ing for  payment  in  advance;  repudiating  loads  a  few 
ounces  overweight,  and  tragically  prophesying  death  on 
the  road  if  the  illegal  incubus  were  not  removed. 

Peremptory  bugle-notes  rang  out  upon  the  air;  and 
mounted  Englishmen,  galloping  hither  and  thither, 
scattered  commands  right  and  left  in  a  series  of  deep- 
chested  shouts. 

Striking  camp, — breaking  up!     It  is  the  key-note  of 


150  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

Anglo-Indian  life.  'The  chord  of  change  unchanging* 
sounds  unceasingly  in  travel-weary  ears. 

But  experience  breeds  proficiency ;  and  the  native  ser- 
vant is  an  adept  in  the  art  of  so  oiling  the  wheels  that 
his  master  shall  accomplish  his  appointed  pilgrimage 
with  the  least  possible  damage  to  his  much-tried  nervous 
system. 

Zyarulla,  the  indomitable,  was  a  man  of  this  order.  In 
his  opinion  the  Sahib  had  no  concern  whatever  with  the 
minor  details  of  the  march:  an  opinion  with  which  the 
Sahib  in  question  had  not  the  smallest  desire  to  quarrel. 
And  on  this  particular  morning  Lenox  had  little  attention 
to  spare  even  for  the  sorting  and  bestowal  of  his  priceless 
manuscripts, — so  impatient  was  he  to  verify  the  dream- 
like happenings  of  the  night ;  to  look  into  his  wife's  eyes 
and  feel  the  answering  pressure  of  her  hand.  Swallow- 
ing a  hasty  cup  of  tea  and  a  banana  while  he  dressed,  he 
hastened  out  to  the  place  of  their  parting  seven  hours 
earlier. 

Afar  off  he  caught  sight  of  her,  standing,  in  habit  and 
terai,  on  the  open  space  where  her  tent  had  been,  super- 
vising the  departure  of  her  last  load  of  luggage,  and 
listening  patiently  to  tales  of  coolie  villainy  and  extor- 
tion poured  forth  by  her  Kashmiri  ayah,  on  a  high  note 
of  vituperation. 

He  checked  his  advance  for  the  pure  pleasure  of  watch- 
ing her  from  a  distance :  and  when  the  ayah, — denounc- 
ing as  she  ran, — hurried  off  in  the  wake  of  her  refractory 
army,  he  went  briskly  forward  and  held  out  his  hand. 

She  gave  him  her  own  without  a  word,  and  for  a  full 
minute  of  time  they  stood  thus,  hands  and  eyes  inter- 
locked, oblivious  of  the  noisy  world  about  them,  which, 
happily  for  them,  was  absorbed  in  matters  of  far  greater 
moment. 

"  Can't  I  help  you  ? "  Lenox  asked ;  and  the  simple 
question,  with  all  that  it  implied  of  his  renewed  right 
of  service,  thrilled  her  like  a  caress. 

"  I  wish  you  could.  But  I've  got  through  most  of  it 
already." 

"That's  bad  luck.  Maurice  not  much  use  on  these 
occasions,  I  suppose?" 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  151 

"  Not  the  smallest  use,  bless  him !  He  says  I  have 
more  talent  for  it  than  he !  But  call  him  Michael,  cher 
ami,  only  to  me." 

"Michael  then,  by  all  means — Quita. — You  can't  think 
what  it  is  to  me  to  be  able  to  call  you  by  your  name 
again,"  he  added  with  sudden  fervour. 

She  laughed  and  blushed  deliciously. 

"I  noticed  that  you  never  called  me  by — the  other 
one,"  she  said,  looking  intently  at  a  distant  tree. 

"Good  Lord,  no — I'd  have  bitten  my  tongue  out 
sooner ! " 

He  could  not  keep  his  eyes  from  her  face ;  and  as  the 
blush  died  down  its  pallor  smote  him. 

"  Did  you  sleep  at  all  ? "  he  asked  abruptly. 

"  Yes ;  for  an  hour  or  two.     Did  you  ? " 

"Didn't  even  lie  down." 

"Oh,  mon pauvre ! " 

"  Hush ! — Don't  trouble  your  dear  head  about  that." 

"  But  I  must.     It  breaks  my  heart " 

He  laughed.  "  That's  worse  than  ever !  You've  got  to 
keep  your  heart  intact — for  me." 

His  eyes  travelled  from  her  face  to  her  unadorned  left 
hand.  Hers  followed  them;  and  a  half  smile  parted  her  lips. 

"  Where  d'you  keep  them  ? "  he  asked  under  his  breath. 

Still  smiling,  she  unfastened  two  buttons  of  her  habit 
and  vouchsafed  him  a  glimpse  of  gold  and  diamonds. 
"  They  live  on  a  chain — in  there,"  she  explained  softly. 

"  You  have  worn  them,  then,  after  a  fashion  ? " 

"  Yes :  since  I  learnt  to  love — my  bondage ! " 

"Did  you  really  never  wish  that  I  might  be  con- 
veniently wiped  out,  even  in  the  early  days  ? " 

"  No,  never : — and  I  am  thankful  now  that  I  can  say 
'  No  '  with  perfect  truth." 

She  drew  in  a  long  breath  of  ecstasy.  The  morning 
cheerfulness  of  the  world  at  large,  the  music  of  her  own 
pulses,  and  of  the  man's  voice,  vibrant  with  things  in- 
expressible, filled  her  with  a  very  oppression  of  happiness. 

"Oh,  Eldred,"  she  breathed.  "It  still  feels  like  a 
dream.  Let's  talk  sheer  prose  just  to  make  it  feel  real ! — 
Are  you  and  the  Desmonds  riding  back  with  Colonel  and 
Miss  Mayhew  ? " 


152  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"Yes." 

"  So  are  we." 

"  And  Garth  ? " 

"  I  suppose  so.  But  I  want  you  to  ride  with  me.  Will 
you — darling  ? " 

She  added  the  entreaty  of  her  eyes  to  the  last  word,  and 
he  hesitated. 

"  It  will  look  a  little  odd,  and  sudden,  of  course.  But 
I  don't  see  why  I  shouldn't." 

"Nor  do  I.  We  can  at  least  begin  our  courtship — 
can't  we  ?  —  to  prepare  people  for  what  is  to  come ! 
Besides — if  it  isn't  you,  it  will  be  Major  Garth ;  and  .  v  . 
I'm  a  little  afraid  of  him  after  last  night." 

"  Why  ?     What  the  devil  did  he  do  ? " 

"Nothing — nothing  definite.  He  only  spoke  rather 
strangely  before  I  sent  him  away ;  and  I  don't  want  to  be 
alone  with  him,  if  I  can  help  it.  You  see,  he  ...  he  cares 
for  me,  Eldred ;  and  I  am  afraid  he  thinks  now  that  I — care 
for  him.  Oh,  I  feel  contemptuously  wicked !  But  I  have 
been  rather  desperate  this  week,  all  on  account  of  you; 
and  I  really  think  it's  your  business  to  protect  me  from 
the  consequences ! " 

"  Of  course  it  is  my  business,  and  my  privilege  to  pro- 
tect you,"  he  answered  fervently.  Her  confession  of  de- 
pendence was  sweeter  to  him  than  honey  in  the  honey- 
comb. "  But  you  gave  me  an  almighty  snubbing  the  other 
day  when  I  made  a  clumsy  attempt  at  it." 

"  Make  allowances,  mon  cher,  and  don't  fail  me  now." 

"  Fail  you  ? "  He  flashed  a  reproachful  glance  at  her. 
"  I  hope  I  may  never  do  that,  while  there's  breath  in  my 
body !  Trust  me  to  be  at  your  right  hand  when  we  start. 
Mrs  Desmond  will  have  wit  enough  to  capture  —  your 
friend,  if  she  sees  that  I  want  you." 

"  Why  ?     Does  she  know  all  about  it  ? " 

"  Just  the  bare  facts.     I  told  her  myself." 

"  And  he  ? " 

"  Certainly.  They  are  one,  those  two,  if  ever  man  and 
woman  achieved  the  miracle." 

"  Does  that  account  for  his  flattering  attentions  to  me 
since  Chumba  ? " 

"  Quite  possibly." 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  153 

"  But  that  wasn't  fair  play  !  He  is  such  a  grand  fellow ; 
and  I  was  so  proud  of  my  small  conquest ! " 

Her  lighter  mood  was  even  more  irresistible  than  her 
seriousness  had  been :  but  Lenox  pulled  himself  together. 

"  Tell  him  so,  and  you'll  make  your  conquest  at  once, 
if  you've  not  made  it  already  !  Hullo — there  is  the  last 
breakfast  bugle.  Shall  we  go  in  together?  If  I  am 
doomed  to  fall  in  love  with  you,  I  may  as  well  set  about 
it  at  once  ! " 

Her  answering  look  set  a  crown  on  him. 

"  Ah,  my  dear,"  she  whispered.  "  In  spite  of  all  you 
said  last  night,  I  am  happy  beyond  words." 

"  So  am  I,"  he  answered  simply.    "  Come." 

From  her  own  area  of  luggage-strewn  ground,  Honor 
Desmond, — carrying  little  Paul,  whom  she  had  insisted 
on  bringing  into  camp, — looked  after  them  as  they  went, 
her  glad  heart  in  her  eyes  ;  and  Desmond,  coming  up 
from  behind,  took  her  lightly  by  the  arm. 

"Well,  old  lady,"  he  asked.  "Are  you  satisfied 
yet?" 

"  Abundantly." 

"  And  am  I  to  get  my  wife  back  again  as  a  reward  for 
distinguished  services  rendered  ? " 

"  I  imagine  so  ! "  she  answered,  laughing  happily.  "  Un- 
less you  would  rather  keep  your  grievance ! — Now  go  on 
to  breakfast,  darling ;  and  I'll  follow  when  I  have  packed 
this  priceless  person  into  his  dandy.  Whatever  happens, 
he  and  Parbutti  must  run  no  risk  of  getting  drenched." 

Breakfast  was  half  through  before  Garth  sauntered 
into  the  mess-tent :  and  Honor,  who  had  watched  for  his 
coming,  felt  an  unbidden  pang  of  pity  at  sight  of  his  blank 
face,  when  he  beheld  Quita  sitting  beside  her  husband, 
a  bright  spot  of  colour  in  either  cheek,  her  eyes  radiating 
a  light  that  refused  to  be  hidden  under  a  bushel. 

The  unexpected  blow  roused  all  the  devil  in  him.  Man 
of  prudence  though  he  was,  he  could  have  murdered 
Lenox  at  that  moment.  But  life  rarely  lends  itself  to 
melodrama :  and  instead  he  sat  down  at  the  far  end  of 
the  table ;  and,  for  once  in  his  life,  ate  a  meal  without 
being  aware  of  its  quality.  His  brain  was  busy  reviewing 


154  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

the  events  of  the  previous  day;  putting  two  and  two 
together,  and  trying  not  to  see  that  they  made  four.  A 
physical  chill  took  him  as  he  realised  how  narrowly  he 
had  escaped  the  ignominy  of  betraying  the  fact  that  he 
had  counted  on  the  consent  of  this  proudest  among 
women  to  the  only  proposals  possible  in  the  cir- 
cumstances. 

It  was  an  awkward  corner  for  James  Garth ;  and  in  his 
chequered  experience  of  awkward  corners  the  rdle  of 
victim  had  rarely  been  his.  Even  the  witness  of  his  eyes 
did  not  carry  conviction.  By  some  means  he  must  con- 
trive to  ride  home  with  her,  and  learn  from  her  lips  the 
'  wherefore '  of  this  astonishing  change  of  front.  He 
reflected  that  Lenox  had  little  finesse,  and  anticipated 
small  trouble  in  circumventing  him. 

But  he  reckoned  without  Honor  Desmond,  whose 
strategical  skill  came  to  her  from  a  long  line  of  dis- 
tinguished soldiers,  and  whose  sympathies  had  been 
touched  to  the  quick  by  the  grave  contentment  in  Eldred 
Lenox's  eyes  when  they  lingered  on  his  wife's  face  and 
figure. 

Breakfast  over,  she  accosted  Garth  straightway  with 
a  cheerful  morning  greeting :  and  from  that  moment,  to 
the  time  of  their  departure,  she  took  charge  of  him,  gently 
yet  irresistibly ;  keeping  him  well  away  from  Quita's 
neighbourhood ;  and  so  isolating  him  that  he  could  not 
desert  her  without  open  rudeness:  proceedings  that  at 
once  mystified  and  flattered  him,  as  Honor  herself  was 
delightedly  aware. 

For  a  full  hour  the  exodus  of  man  and  beast  went 
noisily  forward.  But  Colonel  Mayhew's  departure  was 
delayed  by  his  desire  to  see  the  Chumba  contingent  well 
under  weigh  before  leaving:  and  by  the  time  he  an- 
nounced his  readiness  to  start,  the  last  remaining  units 
of  the  Great  Camp  were  out  of  sight,  trotting  briskly 
along  the  shadowed  road  that  winds  up  through  the  forest 
to  Bukrota  Mall. 

"  If  we  push  along  briskly  we  may  get  in  with  dry  skins 
yet,"  he  said,  scanning  the  sky,  where  a  vanguard  of 
tattered  cloud  trailed  aimlessly  across  the  blue. 

"  And  I  was  actually  hoping  we  might  get  caught!"  Quita 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  155 

confessed  on  a  mock  note  of  apology.  "  It  would  make  such 
a  thrilling  finale:  and  I  delight  in  your  Indian  storms." 

Colonel  May  hew  laughed  and  shook  his  head. 

"  When  you  have  seen  and  heard  as  many  of  them  as  I 
have,  Miss  Maurice,  you  will  simply  find  them  '  demnition 
damp  and  disagreeable,'  like  Mantalini's  dead  body ! 
And  even  at  the  risk  of  disappointing  you,  I  intend  to 
make  a  bolt  for  it. — Come  on,  my  contingent ! " 

Lenox  was  at  his  wife's  right  hand,  as  he  had  promised  : 
and  Garth  had  so  far  succumbed  as  to  lift  Mrs  Desmond 
into  her  saddle. 

"  You  are  a  practised  hand  at  it ! "  she  said,  smiling  down 
upon  his  obvious  annoyance  at  the  fate  in  store  for  him. 
"  Why  shouldn't  you  and  I  head  the  contingent  ?  Some 
one  must  go  first !  " 

There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  acquiesce;  and  to 
endure,  as  best  he  might,  the  torment  of  Quita's  clear 
tones  close  behind,  alternating  with  her  husband's  bass ; 
both  voices  pitched  too  low  to  be  articulate.  Desmond 
followed  with  Mayhew,  while  Maurice  and  Elsie,  and  the 
customary  string  of  coolies,  brought  up  the  rear. 

For  the  first  few  miles  splashes  of  sunlight  gleamed  and 
quivered  on  the  rough  pathway,  on  red-pine  stems,  and 
moss-coated  rocks.  But  before  half  their  journey  was 
accomplished,  it  became  evident  that  they  were  not  to 
escape  the  opening  storm  of  the  great  monsoon. 

A  shuddering  wind  set  the  dense  pines  above  and  below 
them  swaying  and  moaning,  a  sound  of  strange  and  in- 
finite melancholy.  The  sunlight  went  out  like  a  snuffed 
candle;  battalions  of  clouds,  charged  with  electricity, 
rolled  silently  northward,  obliterating  all  things;  and 
an  ochreous  twilight  settled  down  upon  the  forest. 
Save  for  the  whispering  of  wind-tossed  trees,  all  Nature 
seemed  hushed,  expectant,  holding  her  breath. 

The  dusky  stillness  wrought  upon  the  nerves  of  the 
riders,  producing  a  vague,  discomfortable  sense  of  fore- 
boding. Talk  grew  fitful;  and  was  instinctively  carried 
on  in  lowered  tones. 

"  Push  on  a  bit  faster,  Mrs  Desmond.  It  would  be  as 
well  to  get  out  where  the  trees  are  thinner  before  the 
worst  is  upon  us." 


156  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

Colonel  Mayhew's  voice  had  an  anxious  note.  He  had 
weathered  the  opening  storm  of  many  monsoons ;  but  his 
daughter's  presence  wakened  in  him  a  new  fear  of  the 
thunderbolts  of  the  gods. 

Even  as  he  spoke,  a  phosphorescent  gleam  sped  through 
the  trees,  like  a  passing  soul;  and  a  threatening  growl 
rumbled  up  from  the  South.  It  was  the  prelude.  Two 
minutes  later,  rocks,  stems,  branches,  and  the  minutest  fir- 
needles that  flickered  against  the  grey,  showed  like  ink- 
strokes  on  tarnished  silver  as  a  forked  flash  leaped,  quiv- 
ering, from  the  heart  of  a  blue-black  cloud.  The  report 
that  followed,  after  scarce  five  seconds  of  stillness,  was 
smart,  crisp,  short  as  a  revolver-shot ;  and  long  before  a 
hundred  peaks  had  made  an  end  of  flinging  back  the 
sound,  a  second  flash  and  crash — in  swifter  succession — 
smote  the  eyes  and  ears  of  the  riders,  who  now  urged 
their  horses  to  a  canter,  saises,  coolies,  and  three  devoted 
dogs  panting  zealously  behind  them. 

Their  hope  was  to  gain  shelter  in  the  Government 
woodsheds,  two  miles  ahead,  before  the  inevitable  down- 
pour came  to  drench  their  bodies  and  impede  their  pro- 
gress. But  Fate  was  in  a  merciless  mood  on  that  June 
morning. 

The  third  flash  split  up  the  sky  as  a  stone  splits  a  win- 
dow pane.  Pulsating  streaks  of  fire,  red,  green,  and  blue, 
radiated  in  all  directions,  half  -  blinding  them  with  the 
brazen  glare.  And  before  it  faded,  a  crackling  detonation 
seemed  to  rip  the  very  heavens  from  marge  to  marge. 

As  yet  no  rain  had  fallen :  and  for  ten  deafening 
minutes  the  little  party  rode  in  silence  through  an  inferno 
of  reiterate  light  and  sound.  Once  or  twice  Quita 
glanced  at  her  husband,  cantering  beside  her,  and  won- 
dered vaguely  when  she  would  hear  him  speak  again ; 
wondered,  too,  at  her  own  matter-of-fact  acceptance  ot 
that  which  a  week  ago  had  appeared  impossible.  But  the 
storm  stunned  heart  and  brain,  as  well  as  eye  and  ear. 
Everything  human,  —  life,  death,  love  itself,  —  seemed 
trivial  in  face  of  this  stupendous  battle  of  the  elements. 
Above  them,  and  on  all  sides  of  them,  the  lightning  leaped 
and  darted,  like  a  live  thing  seeking  its  prey.  It  was  as 
if  the  sombre  heavens  were  bringing  forth  brood  upon 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  157 

brood  of  fiery  serpents,  and  greeting  the  birth  of  each 
with  ear-splitting  peals  of  Titanic  laughter. 

Then  came  the  rain  : — not  in  mere  drops,  but  in  a  solid 
sheet  of  water,  blinding,  drenching,  stupefying.  At  the 
same  instant  the  fury  of  the  storm  culminated  in  a  blaze 
of  white  light  that  seemed  to  spring  upon  them  from  all 
sides  at  once,  with  a  shout  as  of  fiends  let  loose ;  and, 
through  the  echoing  after-roll  of  thunder,  came  a  sharper, 
harsher  sound, — the  death  note  of  a  mighty  tree. 

Lenox  and  his  wife  faced  one  another  involuntarily 
with  startled  looks. 

"  How  appalling  ! — What  was  it  ?  "  she  asked  between 
two  breaths. 

"  A  pine  struck  somewhere  up  the  Tchud.  Not  fright- 
ened, are  you,  lass  ? "  he  added  with  tender  concern.  "  It's 
the  very  thing  you  wanted.  You've  got  your  thrilling 
finale  with  a  vengeance ! " 

A  clatter  of  breaking  branches  made  him  look  up. 
"  Great  God  ! "  he  cried,  on  a  note  of  alarm.  "  Back  your 
pony  sharp.  It's  coming  down  on  the  top  of  us ! " 

And  as  she  obeyed,  with  the  swift  instinct  of  fear, 
Desmond's  voice  reached  him  through  the  rush  of  the 
rain. 

"  Look  out  for  yourself,  Lenox !     She's  safe  enough." 

But  before  the  words  were  out,  the  upper  half  of  a  great 
deodar  crashed  down  upon  the  narrow  path,  and  a  long 
branch  struck  the  Galloway's  shoulder  with  tremendous 
force.  For  an  instant  Shaitan  staggered  under  the  blow : — 
then  horse,  and  man,  and  tree  were  hurled  headlong  down 
the  steep,  rain-lashed  ravine. 

A  great  cry  broke  from  Quita :  and  in  that  cry,  and  the 
white,  rigid  repression  that  followed  it,  Garth  had  his 
answer  to  the  question  he  had  never  asked. 

For  the  hundredth  part  of  a  second  all  seven  sat  para- 
lysed by  the  hideous  thing  that  had  happened  before  their 
eyes,  and  by  the  hopeless  nature  of  the  drop  down  which 
Lenox  had  disappeared : — wiped  out,  as  though  he  had 
never  been. 

Then  Desmond's  practical  vigour  asserted  itself,  and  he 
sprang  lightly  to  the  ground. 

"  Here,  take  hold  of  the  Demon,  some  one  ! " 


158  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

And  it  was  Quita  who  leant  forward  and  grasped  the 
bridle  with  a  steady  hand.  Her  action  gave  him  the 
chance  he  wanted  of  getting  close  enough  to  speak  a  few 
words  of  encouragement  in  a  hurried  undertone. 

"Don't  lose  heart.  It's  an  ugly  drop.  But  he  fell 
clear  of  the  tree ;  and  these  khuds  are  the  most  chancy 
things  imaginable.  I'm  off  after  him,  as  fast  as  hands  and 
feet  can  take  me." 

Speech  was  beyond  her;  but  she  thanked  him  with 
her  eyes. 

A  moment  later  he  was  kneeling  in  the  mud,  rapidly 
unfastening  toots  and  gaiters ;  for  one  downward  glance 
had  convinced  him  that  it  would  be  a  matter  of  climbing, 
and  difficult  climbing  at  that. 

By  now  Colonel  May  hew  had  dismounted  also :  and  as 
Desmond  stood  upright  —  in  socks  and  breeches  —  and 
flung  aside  his  dripping  helmet,  the  older  man  drew  him 
to  the  path's  edge. 

"  Look  here,  my  dear  chap,"  he  said,  when  they  were 
out  of  earshot  of  the  group,  who  sat  spellbound  in  the  grip 
of  tragedy,  "  are  you  justified  in  running  a  serious  risk, 
probably  —  to  no  purpose?  For  I'm  afraid  poor  Lenox 
hasn't  a  ghost  of  a  chance.  You're  a  married  man,  re- 
member ;  and  it  looks  to  me  uncommonly  like  madness  to 
attempt  that  Tchud  in  such  weather.  It'll  be  a  case  of 
holding  on  with  your  eyelids ;  and  there's  a  coolie  track 
not  far  from  here,  that  leads  down  to  the  valley." 

Desmond's  mouth  took  the  dogged  line  that  his  sowars 
knew  and  loved ;  and  a  combatant  light  flashed  in  his 
eyes. 

"Your  blood's  cooler  than  mine,  sir,"  he  answered 
quietly.  "  But  I  have  a  fairly  steady  head ;  and  my  wife 
would  be  the  last  person  in  the  world  to  hold  me  back, 
thank  God.  In  such  cases  five  or  ten  minutes  may  mean 
just  the  difference  between  life  .  .  .  and  death.  If  you 
will  get  together  some  sort  of  a  stretcher — a  good  strong 
one — and  come  on  post-haste  down  the  coolie  track,  I'll 
be  grateful.  I  suppose  we  haven't  a  drop  of  brandy 
among  us  ? — bad  luck  to  it !  " 

"  There's  a  provision  kilter  on  one  of  the  coolies.  Shall 
we  have  it  turned  out,  on  the  chance  ? " 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  159 

"  Good  Lord,  yes.  Get  it  done  at  once,  please."  Then 
he  turned  to  Garth.  "  I  say,  Major,  gallop  on,  will  you, 
and  catch  up  Dr  O'Malley.  I  saw  him  start  with  the  last 
contingent.  They  can't  be  more  than  two  miles  ahead." 

And  as  Garth  obeyed  the  peremptory  request,  the  devil 
himself  must  have  whispered  to  his  heart  the  despicable 
suggestion  that  possibly  Fate  had  struck  a  blow  in  his 
favour  after  all. 

Colonel  Mayhew,  meanwhile,  rummaging  feverishly  in 
the  depths  of  the  kilter  with  scant  hope  of  success,  be- 
strewed the  wet  earth  on  all  sides  of  him  with  canned 
fruits,  sardines,  greasy  jharrons,  and  crumpled  wads  of 
newspaper:  till  at  length,  like  Hope  out  of  Pandora's 
casket,  there  came  forth  from  an  unsuspicious-looking 
bundle  of  clothes  half  a  bottle  of  brandy,  stowed  carefully 
away  by  the  kitmutgar,  for  private  ends  best  known  to 
himself. 

Desmond,  who  stood  by  fuming  with  impatience  to  be 
gone,  laid  eager  hands  on  it. 

"  Lord,  what  a  miracle !  Pity  there's  no  flask  handy," 
he  muttered,  buttoning  his  coat,  and  thrusting  the  un- 
wieldly  impediment  into  a  side-pocket.  Then,  catching 
sight  of  a  horn  tumbler  among  the  debris,  he  picked  it  up, 
and  drew  out  the  bottle. 

"  Better  leave  you  some  for  the  women, — if  you  can  get 
'em  to  drink  it  diluted  with  a  trifle  of  rain  ! — There  now, 
I'm  off.  For  God's  sake,  Colonel,  look  sharp  after  me." 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer,  he  swung  round  on  his 
heel,  and  for  the  first  time  looked  at  his  wife,  whose  eyes 
had  never  left  him  since  he  sprang  from  the  saddle. 
Now,  as  his  own  challenged  them,  they  gave  him  in  full 
the  approval  he  craved;  and,  for  the  space  of  a  few 
seconds,  their  spirits  clung  together  in  an  embrace  more 
intimate  than  any  communion  of  the  lips. 

Then  Theo  Desmond  wrenched  himself  away. 

Stepping  deliberately  backward,  over  a  short,  sheer 
drop,  he  let  himself  down  by  his  hands  on  to  a  tumbled 
mass  of  boulders,  and  began  his  perilous  descent  in 
earnest.  Whereupon  Brutus, — who  stood  at  the  khud's 
edge  peering  into  space,  ears  and  tail  dumbly  demanding 
explanation, — lunged  forward,  as  if  to  follow  so  practical 


160  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

a  lead ;  and  only  Colonel  Mayhew's  prompt  clutch  at 
his  collar  saved  him  from  joining  the  master  who  had 
so  basely  deserted  him.  Both  he  and  Desmond's  dis- 
tracted Aberdeen  were  handed  over  to  a  sais ;  and  after 
much  ineffectual  choking  and  gurgling,  subsided  into 
apathetic  despair. 

Already  half  a  dozen  natives  were  busy  devising  an 
impromptu  stretcher  from  fir  branches,  ropes,  and  strips 
of  coolie  blanket, — drenched  and  evil-smelling,  yet  accept- 
able enough ;  while  Quita  sat  watching  its  construction 
in  a  dazed  stillness ;  her  eyes  dry  and  wide ;  her  artist's 
brain  picturing  too  vividly  that  which  lay  awaiting  it 
down  there  in  the  pitiless  rain,  that  seemed  to  add  a 
refinement  of  cruelty  to  the  horse-play  of  lightning  and 
thunder. 

But  Colonel  Mayhew,  unaware  of  the  morning's  double 
tragedy,  had  eyes  only  for  his  daughter ;  and,  in  his  first 
free  moment,  hurried  to  her  side.  She  had  hidden  her 
face,  and  was  crying  softly,  to  Michael's  open  dismay. 
Once  or  twice  he  had  even  laid  a  hand  on  her,  unheeded, 
and  unrebuked.  But  her  father's  touch  roused  her,  and 
she  took  convulsive  hold  of  him.  She  was  still  little 
more  than  a  child ;  and  this  was  her  first  face-to-face 
encounter  with  the  brutality  of  God's  universe. 

"  Don't  upset  yourself,  girlie,"  he  said  kindly.  "  The 
damage  may  be  less  than  we  think  for.  I  must  stay  here 
and  help ;  but  you  must  be  a  good  child,  and  ride  on  at 
once.  You'll  see  her  safe  home  for  me,  won't  you, 
Maurice  ?" 

Michael  acquiesced  eagerly.  Unrelieved  tragedy  upset 
his  nerves.  He  longed  to  escape  from  the  consciousness 
of  Quita's  dumb  despair :  and  when  Elsie  had  been  induced 
to  swallow  a  drop  of  brandy  that  would  not  have  warmed 
a  sparrow,  they  rode  off  briskly  through  the  sullen 
downpour. 

With  a  breath  of  relief,  Colonel  Mayhew  went  up  to 
Honor  Desmond,  who  had  just  dismounted. 

"  What's  that  for  ? "  he  asked  anxiously.  "  You  and 
Miss  Maurice  are  going  on  too,  of  course." 

Honor  shook  her  head. 

"  But  you  can  do  no  earthly  good  by  waiting.    We 


JUST    IMPEDIMENT.  161 

may  be  an  hour  or  more  before  we  get  up  here  again. 
It  will  be  slow  work,  if  ...  if  Lenox  is  alive  ; — and  you 
will  be  drenched  to  the  skin." 

"  There  are  worse  evils  than  that ! "  she  answered  with 
gentle  immobility.  "  Don't  trouble  about  me,  please.  I 
must  stay  here  till  I  know  what  has  happened;  and  I 
think  Miss  Maurice  will  wish  to  stay  too.  We  shall  come 
to  no  harm.  We  women  have  nine  lives,  you  know  ! " 

"  And  if  you  will — you  will.  ...  I  know  that  also  ! 
But  at  least  take  a  nip  to  keep  out  the  damp.  Your 
husband  gave  me  this  at  the  last  moment  for  the  three 
of  you." 

"  How  like  him  to  think  of  it ! "  she  murmured,  smiling 
unsteadily. 

"  Yes — it  was  like  him," — and  in  the  expansion  of  the 
moment  the  warm-hearted  Eesident  put  a  fatherly  hand 
on  her  shoulder.  "  He's  a  deuced  fine  fellow,  my  dear, 
and  he  has  found  a  wife  that's  worthy  of  him." 

Honor  blushed  rose-red,  and  took  the  proffered  stimu- 
lant. 

"  I'll  give  Miss  Maurice  some  too,"  she  said.  "  Don't 
lose  a  second  on  our  account,  please." 

Thus  urged,  the  good  man  hurried  away ;  and  Honor 
went  straight  to  Quita,  whose  unnatural  apathy  cut  her 
to  the  heart. 

"  Miss  Maurice,  here's  brandy,"  she  said  softly.  "  Drink 
all  of  it,  before  I  help  you  down." 

Quita  emptied  the  tumbler;  and  Honor,  grasping  her 
waist  with  both  hands,  lifted  her  out  of  the  saddle. 

"  How  strong  you  are,"  she  said,  in  the  toneless  voice  of 
a  sleep-walker.  Then  her  frozen  anguish  melted  suddenly 
and  completely.  For  Honor  Desmond,  instead  of  releas- 
ing her,  clasped  her  close,  kissing  her,  with  passionate 
tenderness,  on  cheeks  and  brows,  like  wet  marble :  and  in 
the  midst  of  her  bewildered  misery  Quita  realised  dimly 
what  it  might  mean  to  possess  a  mother. 

"  Theo  and  I  know  about  it  all,"  Honor  explained  at 
length  ;  and  Quita  nodded.  The  fact  that  she  was  crying 
her  heart  out  on  the  shoulder  of  her  detested  rival  made 
the  whole  incident  dreamlike  to  the  verge  of  stupefaction  : 
and  it  was  Honor  who  spoke  again. 

L 


162  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"We'll  just  wait  here  together  till  they  come  back; 
and  shut — the  worst  out  of  our  thoughts.  You  have 
splendid  courage,  my  dear,  and  I  think  I  love  nothing  in 
the  world  more  than  courage.  Sit  down  with  me  now  on 
this  pile  of  fir-needles.  It  looks  a  little  less  saturated 
than  the  rest  of  the  world." 

Still  keeping  an  arm  round  her,  she  drew  her  down 
unresisting  to  her  side :  and  Quita,  choking  back  the 
tears  that  had  probably  saved  her  brain  from  after-effects 
of  the  shock,  looked  with  awakened  interest  at  her  new- 
found friend. 

"  I  don't  deserve  that  you  should  be  so  good  to  me," 
she  said,  humour  flashing  through  her  pain  like  a  watery 
sunbeam  on  a  day  of  mist.  "  I  have  hated  you,  with  all 
my  heart,  ever  since  I  first  saw  you  ! " 

At  which  confession  Honor  pressed  her  closer.  "  Bless 
you  for  telling  me  ! — I  take  it  simply  as  the  measure 
of — your  love  for  him." 

"  Mon  Dieu,  no !     Not  now,"  she  answered  very  low. 

"  I  am  glad  of  that  too.  For  I  want  very  much  to  be 
good  friends  with  Captain  Lenox's  wife." 

On  the  last  word  a  slow  colour  crept  back  into  Quita's 
cheeks. 

"  You  mustn't  speak  of  it — yet,  to  any  one  else.  There 
are  difficulties — big  difficulties  .  .  ." 

"  I  know ; — but  you  may  trust  him  to  conquer  them. 
One  feels  in  him  the  sort  of  force  that  moves  mountains." 

Again  Quita  nodded.  "  You  seem  to  know  everything," 
she  added,  a  last  spark  flickering  in  the  ashes  of  her 
jealousy.  "And  I  suppose  you  blame  me  for  it  all." 

"  I  am  too  ignorant  of  the  facts  to  blame  either  of  you. 
I  only  know  that  even  if  he  wronged  you  in  any  way,  he 
has  been  more  than  sufficiently  punished." 

At  that  Quita's  lips  quivered,  and  the  storm  of  her 
grief  broke  out  afresh :  while  the  greater  storm  overhead, 
having  accomplished  its  evil  work,  rolled  rapidly  north- 
ward, with  the  colossal  unconcern  of  a  giant  who  crushes 
a  beetle  in  his  path ;  and  the  first  stupendous  downrush 
of  water  subsided  into  a  melancholy  drizzle  of  rain. 

In  that  endless  hour  of  looking  and  waiting  for  those 
who  seemed  as  if  they  had  been  blotted  out  for  all  time, 


JUST    IMPEDIMENT.  163 

Quita  learned  once  and  for  all  what  manner  of  woman 
Honor  Desmond  was ;  learnt  also  something  of  the  loyalty 
and  reserve  that  had  marked  Eldred's  intercourse  with 
her  whom  he  had  spoken  of  as  his  best  friend. 


CHAPTEE    XIV. 

"  And  echo  circles  in  the  air, 
Is  this  the  end — ia  this  the  end  ?  " 

— TENNYSON. 

DOWN, — steadily,  interminably  down  the  face  of  that 
formidable  ravine,  Theo  Desmond  slid,  and  scrambled, 
and  climbed ;  holding  his  mind  rigidly  on  the  practical 
necessities  of  the  moment,  which  were  many  and  discon- 
certing. His  stockinged  feet  showed  dull-red  streaks  and 
blotches,  where  sharp  stones  had  cut  them.  His  hands 
were  grazed  and  torn  by  futile  clutchings  at  the  surface 
of  broken  rocks :  and  the  protruding  neck  of  the  brandy 
bottle  had  a  trick  of  digging  him  playfully  in  the  ribs  : 
which  made  him  swear.  Impertinent  raindrops  chased 
each  other  down  his  cheeks  and  forehead ;  trickling  into 
his  eyes,  and  blinding  him  at  critical  moments  when  he 
dared  not  release  a  hand  to  brush  them  away.  The  inch- 
by-inch  progress  to  which  he  was  condemned  fretted  the 
hasty  spirit  of  the  man ;  anxiety  consumed  him,  and  con- 
spired with  impatience  to  beget  a  nightmare  illusion  that 
he  had  been  battling  with  naked  rock  and  dripping  vege- 
tation since  the  beginning  of  Time. 

Once, — for  all  the  caution  with  which  he  crept  back- 
ward and  downward, — his  foot  slipped,  on  the  wet  surface 
of  a  boulder ;  and,  in  the  hope  of  avoiding  a  fall,  he 
clutched  at  a  small  shrub,  with  one  hand,  shielding  the 
aggressive  brandy  bottle  with  the  other.  But  the  treach- 
erous sapling  yielded  under  his  weight ;  and  wrenching 
its  roots  from  the  moist  earth,  he  rolled  over  and  over, 
knocking  his  head  and  chest  violently  against  outlying 
peninsulars  of  rock. 


164  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

Both  hands  were  requisitioned  now,  in  a  vain  effort 
to  check  a  descent  that  had  become  too  rapid  for  comfort 
or  dignity  :  and  before  long,  a  musical  clink,  followed  by 
a  strong  whiff  of  spirit,  announced  the  fate  of  the  brandy 
bottle. 

"  Damn  the  thing ! "  he  exclaimed  in  an  access  of  help- 
less fury.  Then  a  fresh  blow  on  his  head  whelmed  anger 
and  anxiety  in  sheer  pain,  and  sent  him  rolling  like  a  log 
into  a  kindly  patch  of  undergrowth,  which  had,  so  far, 
blocked  his  downward  view. 

Here  he  lay  awhile,  half  stunned,  small  runnels  of 
water  trickling  from  his  clothing.  But  his  vitality — 
never  long  in  abeyance — soon  reasserted  itself.  He  sat 
up,  and  his  hand  went  instinctively  to  his  pocket.  Draw- 
ing out  the  beheaded  bottle,  he  was  relieved  to  find  that  it 
still  held  a  tablespoonf ul  or  more ;  and  that  his  handker- 
chief was  saturated  with  the  precious  fluid.  He  sucked  a 
mouthful  from  it  with  keen  satisfaction :  then,  using  it  for 
a  wad,  plugged  up  the  bottle ;  and  undaunted  by  bruises, 
dizziness,  torn  hands,  and  smarting  feet,  lost  no  time  in 
starting  afresh. 

For  the  time  being,  progress  was  simpler,  and  less 
hazardous :  and,  once  through  the  undergrowth,  he  came 
with  disconcerting  abruptness  upon  that  which  he  sought. 

Eight  feet  below  him,  on  a  merciful  ledge  of  earth  wide 
enough  to  check  the  fatal  rebound  into  space,  Eldred 
Lenox  lay  face  downward,  his  left  arm  crumpled  under 
him;  the  other  flung  outward  as  if  in  a  last  desperate 
effort  to  ward  off  the  inevitable.  Shaitan  was  nowhere  to 
be  seen.  The  sheer  drop  beyond  told  his  fate. 

Soldier  as  he  was,  and  inured  to  the  sight  of  death  in 
its  most  barbarous  aspect,  Desmond's  heart  stood  still  as 
he  looked  down  upon  that  powerful  figure  of  manhood 
lying  helpless  and  alone,  pattered  upon  indifferently  by 
the  dripping  heavens. 

Choosing  a  spot  that  promised  a  soft  landing-place, 
Desmond  dropped  on  to  the  ledge ;  knelt  beside  the  in- 
jured man ;  and  speedily  assured  himself  that  life  was  not 
extinct.  Unconsciousness  was  due  to  a  wound  on  the 
back  of  his  head,  from  which  blood  still  trickled  sluggishly 
through  the  thick  black  hair.  The  arm  crumpled  under 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  165 

him  was  broken  below  the  elbow.  Very  gently,  as  though 
he  were  a  child  asleep,  Desmond  turned  him  on  to  his 
back.  His  eyes  showed  fixed  and  glazed  between  half- 
open  lids,  and  a  deep  scratch  disfigured  his  cheek. 
Pillowing  the  inert  head  on  one  arm,  Desmond  applied 
the  spirit  to  his  lips  again  and  again,  a  few  drops  at  a 
time :  till  the  lids  lifted  heavily,  and  life  returned  with  a 
slow  shuddering  breath. 

Desmond  bent  down  to  him  eagerly. 

"  Not  going  out  this  journey,  Lenox,  old  chap." 

But  no  answering  gleam  rewarded  him ;  no  movement 
of  limb  or  feature.  Only  the  lids  fell  again ;  and  Desmond 
knew  that  this  was  no  fainting  fit,  but  collapse  from  prob- 
able damage  to  the  brain. 

After  applying  more  brandy  to  the  lips  and  temples  with- 
out result,  he  removed  his  Norfolk  coat — still  warm  and 
dry  within — and  with  the  help  of  two  fir  boughs  contrived 
to  shelter  Lenox's  head  and  chest  from  the  chilling  down- 
pour. Then  he  set  to  work  on  the  broken  arm.  The 
same  fir, — springing  sturdily  from  a  cleft  in  the  rock 
below,— provided  a  splint;  and  with  two  handkerchiefs 
(he  had  wrung  the  last  drop  of  rain-diluted  brandy  from 
his  own)  he  tied  the  injured  limb  skilfully  and  securely 
into  place.  That  done,  there  remained  nothing  but  to 
wait : — the  hardest  task  that  can  be  assigned  to  a  man  of 
action. 

And  to  wait  sitting  was  beyond  him.  Steady  pacing 
in  the  cramped  space  available  helped  to  deaden  thought 
and  promote  warmth, — for  by  now  his  soaked  shirt-sleeves 
clung  to  his  arms. 

He  kept  it  up  doggedly  till  approaching  footsteps 
brought  his  damp  vigil  to  an  end ;  and  Colonel  May  hew 
stepped  on  to  the  ledge. 

"  Alive  ? "  he  asked,  glancing  at  the  prostrate  figure,  and 
Desmond  nodded. 

"  Can't  get  him  round,  though.  Concussion,  I'm  afraid. 
A  nasty  wound  on  his  head,  and  one  arm  fractured.  But 
for  that  strip  of  undergrowth,  he  would  have  been  done 
for.  Hope  to  God  that  lazy  beggar  Garth  hurried  up 
after  O'Malley.  We  won't  wait  here,  though. — Come  on, 
coolie-log" 


166  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

Colonel  Mayhew  going  forward  to  lend  a  hand,  glanced 
over  the  precipitous  drop  on  his  right,  and  turned  hastily 
away  again.  That  which  had  been  Shaitan  was  visible 
below ;  and  it  was  not  pleasant  to  look  at. 

"  Lenox  '11  be  cut  up  about  that,"  he  muttered  as  they 
lifted  him  cautiously  on  to  the  reeking  strip  of  blanket. 

It  was  a  dreary  journey  up  that  corkscrew  footpath, 
inch-deep  in  running  water,  that  led  to  the  ordinary 
levels  of  life.  Desmond  kept  his  post  by  Lenox's  head 
and  shoulders,  sheltering  him  still  with  the  discarded 
coat,  and  clinging  to  the  track's  edge  with  supple,  stock- 
inged feet.  But  there  was  no  preventing  jars  and  jolts 
arising  from  broken  ground,  and  the  difficulty  of  carrying 
a  litter  at  an  almost  impossible  angle.  Half-way  up  they 
caught  sight  of  Dr  O'Malley, — a  Pickwickian  figure  of  a 
man,  booted  and  spurred,  —  skipping,  stumbling,  and 
slithering  towards  them  in  a  fashion  ludicrous  enough  to 
bring  a  flicker  of  mirth  into  Desmond's  eyes. 

They  drew  up  when,  at  length,  he  bore  down  upon 
them  with  a  rush  of  expletives  by  way  of  sympathy :  for 
he  was  good-hearted  and  a  ready  man  of  his  tongue,  if  not 
a  brilliant  unit  of  his  profession.  His  rapid  examination 
of  Lenox  ended  in  praise  of  Desmond's  amateur  bit  of 
surgery,  and  a  confirmation  of  his  verdict — concussion  of 
the  brain. 

"An'  there's  no  telling  yet,  of  course,  if  it's  slight  or 
serious.  But  begad  he  must  have  had  a  nasty  tumble. 
Devilish  lucky  to  get  off  with  his  life, — that's  a  fact. 
What's  the  nearest  bungalow)we  can  get  him  into  ?  'Tis  a 
good  eight  miles  to  the  hospital ;  and  the  sooner  he's  out  of 
this  d — d  watering-can  business  the  better  chance  for  him." 

Desmond  turned  to  Colonel  Mayhew. 

"  How  about  the  Forest  bungalow,  sir  ?  Only  a  couple 
of  miles  on,  isn't  it  ?  Brodie  must  be  there  now ;  and  he's 
the  right  sort,  if  he  is  a  bit  of  an  anchorite." 

"  Why,  of  course.  The  very  thing.  He's  something  of 
an  experimentalist  too.  Keeps  up  a  small  pharmacy  in 
one  of  his  outhouses.  He'll  make  room  for  Lenox  like  a 
shot." 

"  And  for  me  too,  I  hope.  I'm  game  to  sleep  anywhere. 
But  I  won't  leave  Lenox  till  he's  tit  to  go  into  Dalhousie." 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  167 

Colonel  Mayhew  nodded  approval;  and  the  dismal 
procession  set  out  again ;  O'Malley  enlivening  its  progress 
with  highly-coloured  reminiscences  of  Jckud  accidents  he 
had  known,  and  with  incidental  attempts  at  jocularity 
that  fizzled  out  like  damp  fireworks.  It  was  all  meant 
kindly  enough.  But  Desmond  was  thinking  of  both  man 
and  wife  as  he  had  seen  them  greet  one  another  that 
morning ;  and  an  atmosphere  of  pseudo-hilarity  jarred  his 
nerves  like  a  discord  in  music.  For  the  man  possessed 
that  mingling  of  fortitude  and  delicacy  of  feeling,  which 
stands  revealed  in  the  lives  of  so  many  famous  fighters, 
and  may  well  be  termed  the  hall-mark  of  heroism. 

In  due  time  they  came  upon  the  two  women,  still  sitting 
— drenched  and  patient — ontheir  bank  of  soaked  fir-needles : 
and  Desmond  hurried  forward  to  get  in  a  word  or  two 
with  Quita  unobserved.  At  sight  of  him — coatless,  mud- 
bespattered,  with  torn  clothes,  and  blood-stained  face  and 
hands — Honor  could  not  repress  a  small  sound  of  dismay. 
But  Quita  saw  in  his  eyes  the  one  thing  she  wanted ;  and 
may  surely  be  forgiven  if  she  paid  small  heed  to  his  plight. 
Her  face  fell  at  the  details  of  the  damage  done. 

"  Mayn't  I  just  have  a  sight  of  him  as  he  passes  us  ? " 
she  pleaded. 

"Better  not,"  he  answered  kindly.  "You  have  an 
artist's  brain,  remember ;  and  I  want  you  to  sleep  a  little 
to-night.  Trust  me  to  do  every  mortal  thing  I  can  for 
him.  Honor  will  see  you  home,  and  I'll  send  a  runner  in 
with  news  this  evening.  We'll  pull  him  through  between 
us, — never  fear." 

She  tried  to  speak  her  thanks ;  but  failing,  put  out  a 
hand  impulsively  to  speak  for  her;  and  his  enfolding 
grasp  made  her  feel  less  lonely,  less  desperate  than  she 
had  felt  since  the  awful  moment  when  her  husband 
vanished  into  space.  The  fact  that  he  was  in  Desmond's 
hands  seemed  a  guarantee  that  all  would  go  well  with 
him.  There  was  no  logic  in  the  conclusion;  and  she 
knew  it.  But  logic  has  little  to  do  with  conviction :  and 
many  who  came  to  know  Desmond  fell  into  this  same 
trick  of  depending  on  him  to  win  through  the  thing  to 
which  he  set  his  hand.  Yet  his  optimism  had  no  affinity 
with  the  cheap  school  of  philosophy,  that  nurses  a 


168  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

pleasant  mind  without  reference  to  disconcerting  facts. 
It  was  the  outcome  of  that  supreme  faith  in  an  Ultimate 
Best,  working  undismayed  through  failure  and  pain, 
which  lies  at  the  root  of  all  human  achievement :  and  it 
was,  in  consequence,  singularly  infectious  and  convincing. 

Quita's  impressionable  spirit  readily  caught  a  reflection 
from  its  rays :  and  hope  revived  sent  a  glow  through  all 
her  chilled  body. 

"  Take  a  stiff  whisky  toddy  the  minute  you  get  in,"  he 
commanded,  while  lifting  her  into  the  saddle.  "  And  try 
to  remember  that  over-anxiety  won't  mend  matters.  It 
will  only  exhaust  your  strength.  I'll  come  in  and  see 
you  whenever  I  can.  Eide  on  at  once,"  he  added  hastily, 
for  the  stretcher,  with  its  pitiful  burden,  was  close  upon 
them.  "  We'll  catch  you  up." 

She  obeyed  with  a  childlike  docility  that  touched  him  to 
the  heart,  and  he  turned  quickly  to  his  wife. 

"Come  on,  you  dear,  drenched  woman.  You've  no 
business  to  be  here  at  all;  and  we  mustn't  keep  'em 
waiting." 

"But  Theo,  .  .  .  your  feet!"  she  murmured  distress- 
fully. "Are  they  quite  cut  to  bits?" 

"  No — not  quite."  He  glanced  whimsically  down  at  his 
dishevelled  figure.  "  Lord,  what  a  scarecrow  I  must  be ! 
Aren't  you  half-ashamed  of  owning  me  ? " 

"  Well — naturally  ! "  she  answered,  beaming  upon  him 
as  she  set  her  foot  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand.  "  I  shall  see 
something  of  you, — shan't  I  ? " 

"  Trust  me  for  that.  See  all  you  can  of  her  too.  She's 
as  plucky  as  they  make  'em:  but  she  may  need  it  all 
and  more,  before  we're  through  with  this,  poor  little  soul." 

He  mounted,  and  rode  with  them  as  far  as  the  wood- 
sheds, where  the  men  branched  off  to  the  Forest  bungalow, 
leaving  the  two  women  to  ride  on  alone :  and,  in  obedience 
to  Desmond's  parting  injunction,  they  kept  up  a  steady 
canter  most  of  the  way. 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  169 


CHAPTEE  XV. 

"  How  the  light  light  love,  he  has  wings  to  fly 
At  suspicion  of  a  bond." 

— BROWNING. 

THE  rugged  peak  of  Bakrota  was  enveloped  in  a  grey 
winding-sheet,  impenetrable,  all-pervading ;  a  dense  mass 
of  vapour  ceaselessly  rolling  onward,  yet  never  rolling 
past.  It  was  as  if  the  mountain  had  become  entangled 
in  the  folds  of  a  giant's  robe. 

The  Banksia  rose  that  climbed  over  the  verandah  of 
the  Crow's  Nest  had  shed  its  first  crop  of  blossoms. 
The  border  below  was  strewn  with  bright  petals  of 
storm  -  scattered  flowers  ;  while  above  the  dank  pines 
dripped  and  drooped  beneath  the  dead  weight  of  uni- 
versal moisture.  The  far-off  glory  of  the  mountains  was 
blotted  out,  as  though  it  had  never  been ;  and  the  doll's 
house,  with  its  subsidiary  group  of  native  huts,  had  the 
aspect  of  a  dwelling  in  Cloudland.  From  within  came 
the  plash  of  water  falling  drop  by  drop,  suggesting  a 
vision  of  zinc  tubs,  pails,  and  basins,  set  here,  there,  and 
everywhere,  to  check  the  too  complete  invasion  of  the 
saturated  outer  world. 

Just  outside  the  drawing-room  door,  heedless  of  the 
mist  that  hung  dewdrops  on  her  lashes,  and  on  blown 
wisps  of  hair,  Quita  stood,  devouring  with  her  eyes  a 
damp  note,  handed  to  her  a  minute  since  by  one  of  Mrs 
Desmond's  jhampannis. 

"  DEAR  Miss  MAURICE  "  —  (it  ran)  —  "  At  last  I  am 
allowed  to  write  and  say  —  Come.  Not  this  afternoon, 
because  he  had  quite  a  long  outing  this  morning  in  that 
blessed  spell  of  sunshine ;  and  he  is  sound  asleep  after  it, 
has  been  for  an  hour  and  more ;  or  of  course  he  would 
send  a  line  with  this  himself.  Come  to  dinner.  Half- 
past  seven.  Then  you  can  have  a  long  evening  together 
without  keeping  him  up  too  late.  For  Theo  is  still  high- 
handed with  him  about  sleep  and  rest.  But  really  he 
has  made  astonishing  progress  since  we  got  him  over 


170  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

here.  Dr  O'Malley  is  quite  comically  elated  over  his 
recuperative  power.  Says  he  has  seldom  seen  such  a 
rapid  and  vigorous  convalescence  after  concussion ;  and 
takes  more  than  half  the  credit  to  himself;  but  I  am 
convinced  that  it  is  you  who  are  mainly  responsible  for  it. 
He  says  little  enough,  even  to  Theo.  Yet  one  can  see  how 
impatient  he  is  to  be  well  again,  because  of  you ;  and 
that's  half  the  battle.  Though  perhaps  my  prosaic  zeal 
for  concentrated  food  of  all  kinds  deserves  to  be  taken 
into  account !  Theo,  who  is  reading  every  word  of  this 
over  my  shoulder  —  in  spite  of  my  insistence  on  the 
privacy  of  all  correspondence ! — wishes  to  point  out  that 
his  own  genius  for  nursing  is  really  at  the  bottom  of  it. 
(N.B. — This  is  simply  because  he  wants  you  to  be  extra 
charming  to  him  to-night ! )  But  apart  from  all  my 
nonsense,  the  point  remains  that  among  us  all  we  have 
done  great  things  in  less  than  three  weeks.  Come  and 
see  for  yourself,  and  we  can  squabble  over  our  laurels  at 
leisure ! 

"  Theo  sends  sympathy  and  salaams,  and  I  think  you 
know  that  I  am  very  really  '  yours,' 

"  HONOR  M.  DESMOND." 

Quita  smiled  as  she  folded  up  the  note,  though  her 
lashes  were  wet  with  more  than  mist.  Tears  came  too 
readily  to  her  eyes  just  now,  a  fact  that  engendered 
occasional  bickerings  between  herself  and  Michael. 

"  And  to  think  that  I  was  blind  enough  to  hate  that 
dear  woman,"  she  thought.  "  I,  who  pride  myself  on  my 
intuition ! " 

Then  she  scribbled  a  hasty  note  of  acceptance,  de- 
spatched the  jhampanni,  and  remained  standing  absently 
by  the  verandah  rail,  looking  out  into  nothingness ; 
trying  to  grasp  the  fact  that  the  longest,  hardest  three 
weeks  of  her  life  were  over ;  that  in  less  than  four  hours' 
time  she  would  once  more  set  eyes  on  the  man  who  was, 
to  all  intents  and  purposes,  her  newly  accepted  lover ; 
would  verify  in  the  flesh  the  remembrance  of  that 
wonderful  night  and  morning. 

The  thought  so  unsteadied  her,  that  she  clenched  her 
hands,  and  jerked  herself  together.  Having  more  of 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  l"71 

Diana  than  of  Venus  in  her  composition,  the  intensity 
of  her  love — since  avowal  had  levelled  all  barriers — was 
a  constant  surprise  to  her ;  and  now  she  was  even  a  little 
ashamed  of  her  natural  longing  for  the  touch  of  hands 
and  lips,  that  she  had  at  times  been  disposed  to  scorn. 
None  the  less,  she  hoped,  unblushingly,  that  she  would  be 
allowed  to  have  him  to  herself  for  an  hour  or  so ;  hoped 
also — nay,  confidently  expected — that  she  would  end  in 
overruling  this  stern  purpose  of  his,  that  irritated  her, 
even  while  it  compelled  her  admiration. 

To  her,  as  to  all  eager  natures,  the  appeal  of  the  present 
was  all-powerful,  the  more  so  when  that  present  offered 
her  with  both  hands  the  best  that  life  has  to  give.  To 
sacrifice  it  on  the  altar  of  a  problematical  future  seemed 
sheer  folly ;  magnificent  folly,  perhaps,  but,  in  the  cir- 
cumstances her  quickened  heart  leaned  towards  a  less 
magnificent  wisdom.  She  detected  in  this  unmanageable 
husband  of  hers  a  strain  of  unpretentious  heroism,  which 
delighted  her  in  the  abstract.  But  when  the  heroic  puts 
on  flesh  and  blood,  and  shoulders  itself  into  our  narrow 
lives,  it  is  apt  to  appear  a  little  too  big  for  the  stage ;  and 
Quita  had  an  artist's  eye  for  proportion,  whether  in 
pictures  or  in  the  human  comedy. 

Moreover,  a  mingling  of  French  and  Irish  blood  rarely 
results  in  an  irksome  derelopment  of  the  conscience,  or 
of  that  moral  bugbear,  a  sense  of  responsibility ;  and 
deep  down,  Quita  knew  herself  to  be  more  like  her 
brother  in  both  respects  than  she  quite  cared  to  ac- 
knowledge. For  all  her  husband's  conscientious  sugges- 
tion that  marriage  was  a  "  complicated  affair,"  she  persisted 
in  regarding  it  simply  as  the  crown  and  completion  of 
their  great  love,  a  happiness  to  which  they  were  entitled 
by  every  law  human  and  divine.  The  generations  still  to 
be  had  not  yet  laid  their  arresting  hand  upon  her.  In 
her  esteem,  such  shadowy  probabilities  had  neither  right 
nor  power  to  stem  the  new  imperious  forces  at  work 
within  her. 

It  remains  to  add  that  Eldred's  avowal  had  not  shocked 
or  repelled  her  as  much  as  he  had  feared.  For,  among 
Michael's  promiscuous  intimates  in  Paris,  Vienna,  Eome, 
she  had  seen  and  heard  more  than  Lenox  was  likely  to 


172  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

guess  of  that  enslavement  to  drugs  and  absinthe  to  which 
the  artist's  temperament  seems  peculiarly  prone ;  though 
she  was  far  from  realising  in  detail  the  full  horror  and 
degradation  involved.  She  merely  felt  certain  that — 
heredity  or  no — Eldred  was,  by  the  nature  of  him,  in- 
capable of  travelling  far  down  that  awful  road ;  that  with 
her  at  his  side  to  hearten  and  help  him,  he  could  not  fail 
to  free  himself  from  "  the  accursed  chain." 

But  they  must  fight  the  battle  together.  That  was  the 
Alpha  and  Omega  of  her  thoughts.  He  had  not  yet 
measured  the  height  and  depth  of  her  love.  Let  her  only 
make  this  clear  to  him,  and  he  must  give  in ;  if  not  to- 
night, at  least  before  his  leave  was  up.  Years  of  living 
with  Michael  had  accustomed  her  to  getting  her  own  way 
in  all  essentials.  But  she  had  yet  to  try  her  strength 
against  the  bed-rock  of  Scottish  granite  underlying  her 
husband's  surface  quietness ;  against  the  terrible  single- 
ness of  mind  that  cannot — even  for  Love's  dear  sake — 
view  harsh  facts  through  a  medium  of  rosy  mist. 

While  she  stood  thus,  trying  to  see  into  the  darkness 
that  shrouds  the  coming  day,  even  the  coming  hour,  from 
inquisitive  eyes,  the  drifting  vapour  all  about  her  paled 
from  grey  to  white,  from  white  to  a  gossamer  film ;  and 
finally  uprose  from  the  valley,  like  a  spotless  scroll  rolled 
backward  by  an  unseen  Hand,  giving  gradually  to  view 
a  multitude  of  mountains,  newly  washed ;  mountains  that 
glowed  with  richest  tints  of  purple  and  amethyst  and 
rose,  in  the  level  light  of  afternoon.  And  Quita,  being  in 
a  fanciful  mood,  saw  in  this  "  good  gigantic  smile  "  of  the 
rain-soaked  earth  a  happy  omen;  an  assurance  that  so 
would  the  mists  rise  from  her  own  life,  and  the  sunlight 
prevail.  A  sudden  recollection  of  the  buffalo  "  Mbla  "  set 
her  smiling. 

"  How  idiotic  I  am  ! "  she  reproved  herself  gently ; — we 
are  apt  to  be  gentle  with  our  own  foolishness ;  it  never 
seems  quite  so  egregious  as  other  people's — "  I  might  be 
a  girl  of  twenty,  after  my  first  proposal,  instead  of  nearly 
thirty,  and  a  nominal  wife  of  five  years'  standing." 

She  drew  out  her  watch.  Four  o'clock.  Three  mortal 
hours  before  she  could  even  think  of  starting.  There  was 
nothing  for  it  but  to  have  recourse  to  her  easel,  faute  de 


JUST    IMPEDIMENT.  173 

mieux.  The  last  words  waked  her  normal  self.  They 
were  no  less  than  heresy,  treason  to  her  art.  Michael 
would  have  disowned  her,  had  she  spoken  them  in  his 
hearing !  Was  Art,  then,  so  small  a  thing  when  compared 
with  this  overwhelming  force  of  Love,  which  dwarfed  all 
thoughts  and  acts  that  did  not  minister  to  its  needs  ?  It 
was  too  early  days  as  yet  to  answer  so  large  a  question. 
She  simply  knew  that  since  that  first  kiss  had  set  her  on 
the  threshold  of  an  unexplored  world,  Art  had  lost  its 
grip ;  that,  for  the  present,  at  all  events,  she  did  not  want 
to  paint,  but  to  love  and  live ! 

"  Pity  Michael  isn't  here  to  scold  me,"  she  thought,  as 
she  turned  back  into  the  house. 

But  Michael  was  away  at  Jundraghat,  the  Eajah's 
summer  Eesidency.  His  finished  portrait  had  been  sent 
off  that  afternoon;  and  he  had  followed  it,  for  the 
pleasure  of  hearing  Elsie's  thanks  and  praise  in  person. 

The  little  room,  robbed  of  the  picture  that  had  been  its 
chief  ornament  for  many  weeks,  looked  empty,  desolate ; 
and  with  a  restless  sigh  she  went  over  to  her  easel.  This 
also  was  empty.  Her  study  of  a  hill  girl, — begun  half 
jestingly,  as  a  contrast  to  Michael's  flower  of  Western 
Maidenhood,  —  had  so  grown  and  beautified  under  her 
hands,  that  it  had  been  voted  worthy  of  a  Home  Exhibi- 
tion ;  and  its  case  now  stood  against  the  wall,  awaiting 
mail  day.  Three  or  four  unfinished  pictures  leaned 
against  the  easel.  Quita  looked  through  them,  aimlessly, 
in  search  of  a  congenial  subject.  But  they  were  chiefly 
landscape  studies;  and  in  her  present  mood  Nature 
seemed  a  little  tame,  and  bloodless.  Her  heart  cried 
out  for  something  human,  and  she  wished  that  Michael 
would  come  back. 

Then,  like  a  ray  of  light,  came  the  required  inspiration, 
satisfying  at  once  the  counter-claims  of  Art  and  Love. 
She  sought  out  a  fresh  canvas,  set  it  on  the  easel,  and 
plunged,  forthwith,  into  a  rough  head-and-shoulder  study 
of  her  husband. 

Now  time  no  longer  stood  still.  Michael  was  forgotten. 
And,  while  her  brush  sped  hither  and  thither,  she  crooned 
low  and  clear,  the  song  that  had  proved  the  open  sesame 
to  her  cave  of  enchantment. 


174  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

And,  in  the  meantime,  Michael — the  forgotten — was 
manipulating  a  new  and  delicate  complication  in  a 
fashion  peculiarly  his  own. 

On  entering  Mrs  Mayhew's  drawing-room,  he  had 
found,  not  his  "  moonlight  maiden,"  as  it  pleased  him  to 
call  her,  but  the  Button  Quail  herself,  who  greeted  him 
with  a  rather  embarrassing  effusion  of  thanks. 

"  And  the  best  point  about  it  is,  that  it's  really  like 
Elsie,"  she  concluded,  with  an  air  of  paying  an  exceptional 
tribute  to  his  skill.  "  Portraits  so  seldom  are  like  people. 
Haven't  you  noticed  it?  That's  why  I  generally  prefer 
photographs.  But  your  picture  is  different.  There  are 
only  two  things  about  it  that  don't  quite  please  me."  She 
paused,  eyeing  the  canvas  with  her  head  on  one  side; 
and  Maurice,  who  was  irresistibly  reminded  of  a  bird 
contemplating  a  worm,  wondered  idly  what  was  coming 
in  the  way  of  criticism.  "  I  wish  you  had  allowed  her  to 
wear  something  smarter  than  that  limp  white  silk  ;  and 
I  think  she  looks  much  too  unpractical,  day-dreaming  on 
a  verandah  railing  at  that  hour  of  the  morning!  But 
then,  Elsie  is  rather  unpractical ;  or  would  be,"  she  added 
quickly,  "  if  I  didn't  insist  on  her  helping  me  with  the 
house.  That's  where  most  Anglo-Indian  mothers  make 
such  a  mistake.  But  /always  say  it  is  a  mother's  duty 
to  have  some  consideration  for  her  girl's  future  husband !  " 

And  she  smiled  confidentially  upon  the  aspirant  at  her 
side.  But  Maurice,  absorbed  in  critical  appraisement  of 
his  own  skill  in  rendering  the  luminous  quality  of  Elsie's 
eyes,  missed  the  smile ;  missed  also  most  of  the  interesting 
disquisition  on  her  education. 

"  Yes,  yes, — no  doubt,"  he  agreed  with  vague  politeness, 
and  Mrs  Mayhew  opened  her  round  eyes. 

But  the  direction  of  his  gaze  was  excuse  enough  for  any 
breach  of  manners ;  and  she  returned  to  the  charge  un- 
dismayed, approaching  her  subject  this  time  from  a  less 
prosaic  point  of  view. 

"  Keally,  Mr  Maurice,  I  never  knew  till  now  that  I  had 
such  a  pretty  daughter !  The  whole  effect  is  so  charming, 
that  I  begin  to  think  you  must  have  flattered  her ! "  she 
remarked  archly;  and  Maurice  fell  headlong  into  the 
trap. 


JUST    IMPEDIMENT.  175 

"  Flattered  her  ?  Mon  Dieu,  no  !  Nature  has  taken 
care  to  make  that  impossible.  For,  although  she  falls 
short  of  true  beauty,  she  has  such  delicacy  of  outline, 
of  colouring,  an  atmosphere  so  ethereal,  that  one  wants 
a  brush  of  gossamer  dipped  in  moonlight,  not  coarse 
canvas,  camel's  hair,  and  oils,  if  one  is  even  to  do  her 
justice.  Some  day  I  must  try  water-colours,  or  pastels. 
Sans  doute  fa  ira  mieux."  He  was  off  on  his  Pegasus  now, 
far  above  Mrs  Mayhew's  bewildered  head.  "  She  would  make 
a  divine  Undine — moonlight,  and  overhanging  trees.  The 
face  and  figure  dimly  seen  through  a  veil  of  water  weeds. 
— But  where  is  she,  then  ? "  he  broke  off,  falling  suddenly 
to  earth  like  a  rocket.  "  May  one  see  her  this  afternoon  ? 
I  want  to  hear  from  herself  that  she  is  satisfied." 

Mrs  Mayhew  smiled  and  nodded,  a  world  of  compre- 
hension in  her  eyes. 

"Yes,  yes,  I  can  quite  believe  that.  I  will  tell  her  you 
are  here.  She  looked  rather  a  wisp  after  the  dance  last 
night,  so  I  sent  her  up  to  rest,  for  the  sake  of  her  com- 
plexion !  But,  of  course,  she  must  come  down  now.  You 
will  find  her  more  entertaining  than  '  la  petite  mere.'  She 
has  taken  to  calling  me  that  lately ! " 

The  complacent  little  lady  took  a  step  forward,  then — 
a  bubble  with  maternal  satisfaction — spoke  the  word  too 
much  that  is  responsible  for  half  the  minor  miseries 
of  life. 

"Do  you  know,  Mr  Maurice,  it  is  quite  charming  of 
you  to  have  shown  me  your  feelings  so  openly,  and  I 
think  the  least  that  I  can  do  is  to  assure  you  of  my 
sympathy  and  approval.  I  don't  feel  quite  so  certain 
about  her  father.  He  is  wrapped  up  in  the  child,  and 
man-like,  wants  to  keep  her  for  himself.  But  no  doubt 
between  us  we  shall  persuade  him  to  listen  to  reason ! 
Now,  I  will  go  to  Elsie." 

But  Michael  made  haste  to  interpose ;  —  a  changed 
Michael,  puzzled  to  the  verge  of  anger,  yet  punctiliously 
polite  withal. 

"One  moment,  Mrs  Mayhew,  please.  It  might  be  as 
well  if  you  and  I  understood  one  another  first.  It 
seems  that  I  have  been  clumsy  in  expressing  myself, 
that  I  have  given  you  a  false  impression.  If  so,  I 


176  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

ask  your  pardon.  Believe  me,  I  fully  sympathise  with 
Colonel  Mayhew's  reluctance  to  part  with  such  a 
daughter;  and  I  am  not  arrogant  enough  to  dream 
of  asking  him  to  make  such  a  sacrifice  —  on  my 
behalf." 

It  was  very  neatly  done.  Michael's  detached  self, 
looking  on  at  the  little  scene,  applauded  it  as  quite  a 
masterpiece  in  its  way.  But  Mrs  Mayhew  stood  petri- 
fied. Her  brain  worked  slowly,  and  it  took  her  an 
appreciable  time  to  realise  that  she  had  been  some- 
thing more  than  a  fool.  Then,  drawing  herself  up  to 
her  full  height  —  barely  five  feet  in  her  heels,  —  she 
answered  him  with  an  attempt  at  hauteur  that  quite 
missed  fire. 

"Since  you  are  so  considerate  of  Colonel  Mayhew's 
feelings,  I  only  wonder  it  has  not  occurred  to  you  that 
your  conduct  during  the  past  two  months  has  been 
little  short  of  dishonourable  ? " 

"  Dishonourable  ?  "  His  eyes  flashed.  "  Mais  com- 
ment ?  " 

"You  have  given  every  one  in  Dalhousie  the  impres- 
sion that  you  were — in  love  with  Miss  Mayhew." 

His  relief  was  obvious. 

"Naturally,  my  dear  lady.  For  I  am  in  love  with 
her.  How  could  a  man,  and  an  artist,  be  anything 

else?      But  marriage  —  no "      He   shook   his   head 

decisively.  "That  is  another  pair  of  sleeves.  Women 
are  adorable.  But  they  are  terrible  monopolists ;  and, 
frankly,  I  have  no  talent  for  the  domesticities.  As  a 
lover,  I  am  well  enough.  But  as  a  husband — believe 
me,  in  six  months  I  should  drive  a  woman  distracted ! 
Ask  Quita.  She  knows.  If  I  have  given  Miss  Mayhew 
cause  to  regret  her  kindness  to  me,  I  am  inconsolable; 
though,  in  any  case,  I  can  never  regret  the  privilege  of 
having  known,  and — loved  her." 

Throughout  this  ingenious  jumble  of  egoism  and  gal- 
lantry, his  listener  had  been  freezing  visibly.  On  the 
last  word  she  compressed  her  mouth  to  a  mere  line, 
and  stabbed  the  unrepentant  sinner  with  her  eyes ;  since 
it  was  unhappily  impossible  to  stab  him  with  a  hat- 
pin, which  she  would  infinitely  have  preferred. 


JUST    IMPEDIMENT.  177 

"  I  have  never  in  my  life  heard  any  man  express  such 
improper  ideas  upon  a  serious  subject,"  she  remarked 
with  icy  emphasis.  "  And  I  am  quite  thankful  that  your 
peculiar  views  prevent  you  from  wishing  to  marry  my 
daughter." 

"  Bien!  Then  we  are  of  one  mind  after  all,"  Maurice 
answered  cheerfully.  "And  since  we  understand  each 
other,  may  I  at  least  be  permitted  to  see  Miss  Mayhew 
before  I  go  ? " 

"  See  her  ?  Certainly  not.  Eeally,  Mr  Maurice,  your 
effrontery  astounds  me !  Understand,  please,  that  from 
to-day  there  is  an  end  of  your  free-and-easy  French  in- 
timacies !  Colonel  Mayhew  and  I  have  to  consider  her 
good  name  and  her  future  happiness  ;  and  we  cannot 
allow  you,  or  any  man,  to  endanger  either." 

Michael  shrugged  his  shoulders.  His  disappointment 
was  keener  than  he  cared  to  show;  but  this  hopeless 
little  woman,  with  her  bourgeois  point  of  view,  was 
obviously  blind  and  deaf  to  common-sense  or  reason. 

"  I  would  not  for  the  world  endanger  Miss  Mayhew's 
happiness,  or  her  good  name,"  he  said,  not  without 
dignity.  "And  as  one  may  not  see  her,  there  is  no 
more  to  be  said." 

He  held  out  his  hand.  But  Mrs  Mayhew's  manners 
were  not  proof  against  so  severe  a  shock  to  her  maternal 
vanity.  She  bowed  as  if  the  gesture  had  escaped  her 
notice. 

"  Good-bye,  Mr  Maurice,"  she  said  rigidly. 
He  returned  her  bow  in  silence,  slipped  the  rejected 
hand  into  his  pocket,  and  went  out. 

In  passing  through  the  hall  he  was  aware  of  a  slim 
white  figure  coming  down  the  broad  staircase;  and 
without  an  instant's  hesitation  he  stood  still.  In  spite 
of  "the  little  she -dragon  in  there,"  he  would  see  her 
yet.  For  the  knowledge  that  he  had  lost  her  increased 
her  value  tenfold. 

"You  are  really  pleased  with  it — tell  me?"  he  said 
eagerly  as  their  hands  met,  for  he  saw  the  question  in 
her  eyes. 

"  Pleased  ?  You  know  I  am.  It  is  much  too  good  of 
you  to  give  me  such  a  splendid  present ;  and  father  is 

M 


178  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

simply  delighted.  But  why  are  you  going  away  ?  I 
thought  you  would  stay  to  tea." 

He  still  held  her  hand,  in  defiance  of  a  gentle  attempt 
to  withdraw  it,  and  now  he  pressed  it  closer. 

"Unhappily  I  must  go,"  he  said,  without  looking  at 
her.  "Your  mother  will  tell  you  why,  better  than  I 
can  do.  Good-bye — petite  amie.  Think  well  of  me,  if 
you  can." 

He  bent  over  her  hand,  kissed  it  lingeringly,  and 
was  gone  before  she  could  find  words  to  express  her 
bewilderment. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

"  What  we  love  we'll  serve,  aye,  and  suffer  for  too." 

— W.  PENN. 

AFTER  sunset  the  mist  came  down  again,  thick  as  cotton- 
wool. Heaven  and  earth  were  obliterated,  and  a  quietly 
determined  downpour  set  in  for  the  night. 

Quita  was  still  at  her  easel,  trying  bravely  to  disre- 
gard the  collapse  of  her  happy  omen ;  Michael  lounging 
in  a  cane  chair,  with  Shelley  and  a  cigarette.  He  had 
returned  from  Jundraghat  in  a  mood  of  skin-deep 
nonchalance,  beneath  which  irritation  smouldered,  and 
Quita's  news  had  set  the  sparks  flying.  Behold  him, 
therefore,  doubly  a  martyr;  ready,  as  always,  to  make 
capital  out  of  his  crown  of  thorns.  A  renewed  pattering 
on  the  verandah  slates  roused  him  from  the  raptures  of 
the  Epipsychidion. 

"  Well,  at  least  you  can't  think  of  going  now,"  he  said, 
flinging  the  book  aside  with  a  gesture  of  impatience. 
"  That's  one  blessing,  if  the  rest's  a  blank." 

Quita,  who  was  washing  out  her  brushes,  looked  round 
quickly. 

"I'm  sorry  to  leave  you  alone  in  a  bad  mood,  Michael; 
but  I  mean  to  go,  whatever  the  weather  chooses  to  say 
about  it." 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  179 

"  Parbleu  !  But  what  has  come  to  you,  Quita  ?  You 
are  infatuated  with  that  granite-natured  Scotchman ! " 

"  And  if  I  am  ...  I  have  every  right  to  be." 

Her  gaze  had  returned  to  the  vigorous  outline  on  the 
easel,  and  her  voice  softened  to  an  unconscious  tenderness, 
peculiarly  exasperating  to  a  man  in  Michael's  mixed  frame 
of  mind. 

"  Naturdlement !  "  he  answered  with  a  shrug.  "  Being  a 
woman,  you  have  divine  right  to  monopolise  a  man, — if 
the  man  is  fool  enough  to  submit  to  it.  Nature  is  deter- 
mined that  you  women  shall  not  escape  your  real  trade. 
That  is  why  she  takes  care  to  make  every  one  of  you  a 
bourgeois  at  heart.  And  all  these  years  I  have  cherished 
the  delusion  that  you,  at  least,  were  a  genuine  artist ! " 

"  So  I  am.     Every  whit  as  much  as  yourself." 

"  And  also — a  genuine  woman  ? " 

"  I  hope  so." 

Michael  smiled — a  smile  of  superior  knowledge. 

"One  cannot  serve  two  masters,  ma  ch&re.  That's 
where  the  complication  comes  in,  when  an  artist  happens 
also  to  be  a  woman.  The  creative  force,  mental  or  physi- 
cal, is  a  master-force.  Only  a  superhuman  vitality  can  ac- 
complish both  with  any  hope  of  success.  Succumb  to  your 
womanhood,  and  there's  an  end  of  your  Art — wild,  tout." 

"But  no,  Michel.  I  won't  believe  that."  She  spoke 
stoutly,  though  cold  fear  was  upon  her  that  a  germ  of 
truth  lurked  in  his  statement. 

"  Believe  it  or  not,  as  you  please.  You  are  on  the  high- 
road to  make  the  discovery  for  yourself,  and  you  will  find 
it  a  case  of  no  compromise.  One  of  the  two  must  pre- 
dominate. You  will  either  become  an  amateur  artist  or 
an  amateur  wife  and  mother.  Which  do  you  suppose  it 
will  be  ? " 

She  shut  her  paint-box  with  an  impatient  snap. 

"I  really  don't  know.  I  am  not  in  the  mood  for 
abstract  speculation." 

"  No.  You  are  in  the  mood  for  concrete  love-making ; 
and  in  pursuit  of  it,  you're  ready  to  face  a  drenching,  to 
leave  me  in  the  worst  possible  company,  without  a  sisterly 
qualm,  and  without  even  troubling  to  put  my  razor  in 
your  pocket." 


180  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

"  Don't  talk  melodramatic  nonsense,"  she  rebuked  him 
sharply.  Then  pity  and  tenderness  prevailed.  "  If  it's 
really  as  bad  as  that,  mon  cher,  why  on  earth  didn't  you 
take  yesterday's  chance,  and  ask  Elsie  to  be  your  wife  ? 
I  believe  she  would  have  said  '  Yes.' " 

"  So  do  I.  Therefore  I  preferred  not  to  ask  her.  Still 
— it's  none  the  less  maddening  that  because  you  women 
have  this  incurable  mania  for  marriage,  one  should  be  cut 
off  from  her  sweet  companionship,  from  the  inspiration 
that  is  to  be  found  in  that  delectable  borderland  between 
friendship  and  love ;  and  insulted  into  the  bargain  by  a 
chit  of  a  mother-woman,  with  no  more  brains  and  imag- 
ination than  a  sparrow !  But  for  me,  at  any  rate,  there 
can  be  no  compromise.  I  do  not  choose  to  profane  the 
sanctuary  of  my  soul,  to  corrupt  my  Art,  by  becoming 
a  mere  breadwinner,  a  slave  of  the  hearth-rug,  and  the 
tea-cup — in  fact,  the  property  of  a  woman.  That's  what 
it  amounts  to.  And  I  doubt  if  any  of  us  relish  the 
position  when  it  comes  to  the  point.  Even  that  devoted 
husband  of  yours,  after  waiting  five  years  upon  your 
imperial  pleasure,  seems  in  no  hurry  to  tie  himself  up 
again;  or  you  would  hear  less  about  his  conscientious 
scruples,  I  assure  you.  They  would  be  swept  aside,  like 
straws  before  a  flood." 

At  that  Quita's  eyes  flashed. 

"Michel,  you  shall  not  speak  so  of  him,"  she  cried 
imperiously.  "  I've  said  already  that  I  won't  have  the 
subject  discussed.  How  should  you  understand  a  man 
like  Eldred, — you,  who  hardly  know  the  meaning  of  the 
word  '  conscience '  ? " 

"  Dieu  merci ;  since  its  chief  function  seems  to  be  to 
make  oneself  and  every  one  else  uncomfortable. — Hark 
at  the  rain !  I  wish  you  joy  of  your  journey." 

He  spoke  the  last  words  to  an  empty  room.  Quita  was 
already  changing  her  dress  hurriedly,  defiantly,  shutting 
her  ears  to  the  discouraging  sounds  without.  Michael's 
half  -  jesting  insinuation  had  hit  her  harder  than  he 
guessed;  had  deepened  her  determination  to  extricate 
herself,  without  loss  of  time,  from  a  position  that  justified 
a  suggestion  so  galling  to  her  pride. 

But  the  mere  getting  down  from  the  top  of  Bakrota, 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  181 

and  climbing  half-way  up  the  neighbouring  hill,  through  a 
desolating  world  of  mist  and  rain,  was,  in  itself,  a  pros- 
pect that  would  have  daunted  a  less  headstrong  woman. 
Michael  returned  her  hasty  "  good-night "  in  a  voice  of  re- 
signed martyrdom,  and  out  in  the  verandah,  four  drenched 
jhampannis  cowering  round  a  hurricane  -  lantern,  had 
passed  beyond  martyrdom  to  the  verge  of  open  rebellion. 

They  were  poor  men,  and  the  Miss  Sahib's  slaves,  they 
protested  in  chorus ;  but  it  was  a  very  bad  rain.  Even 
with  the  lantern,  it  would  be  impossible  to  keep  the  path  ; 
and  if  harm  should  come  to  the  Protector  of  the  Poor,  the 
Sahib  would  smite  them  without  mercy.  Also  the  "mate  " x 
was  even  now  shivering  with  ague ;  in  proof  whereof  he 
so  vigorously  shook  the  lantern  that  it  almost  fell  out  of 
his  hand. 

But  Quita  was  adamant.  She  bade  them  set  out  at 
once,  or  the  Sahib  would  smite  them  there  and  then. 
Awed  by  a  threat  that  would  never  have  been  executed, 
they  hastened  to  assure  her  that  she  was,  collectively  and 
individually,  their  "  father  and  mother,"  that  their  worth- 
less lives  were  at  her  service,  and  that  they  would  start 
forthwith. 

Three  minutes  later,  they  were  swinging  cautiously 
along  the  four-foot  track  that  corkscrews  down  to  the 
level  of  the  Mall,  the  foremost  man  thrusting  the  lantern 
well  ahead,  with  the  sole  result  that  a  great  white  circle 
showed  weirdly  upon  the  curtain  of  mist,  through  which 
they  journeyed  by  faith,  and  not  by  sight.  With  every 
step  of  the  way  Quita's  conviction  grew  that  she  had 
pushed  persistence  to  the  verge  of  folly ;  and  the  thought 
of  Michael,  alone  and  dejected,  tugged  at  her  heart.  The 
rain  formed  miniature  canals  in  the  waterproof  sheet  that 
covered  her;  and  more  than  once  a  jerk  of  the  dandy 
emptied  these  into  her  lap ;  while  the  mist  itself  was  so 
dense  that  she  seemed  to  be  breathing  water  instead  of 
air.  There  was  no  denying  that  to-morrow  would  do  as 
well  as  to-night.  But  her  impatient  spirit  fretted  against 
delay ;  and  this  senseless  obtrusion  of  inanimate  things, — 
angering  her,  as  only  the  inanimate  can, — drowned  the 
still  small  voice  of  common-sense. 
1  Headman. 


182  THE  GREAT   AMULET. 

Nevertheless,  human  will  and  endeavour  have  small 
chance  in  a  duel  with  that  invisible  Force,  which  men 
call  Fate.  In  the  language  of  the  East,  "  it  was  written  " 
that  she  should  not  get  down  the  hill  that  night;  and 
before  they  reached  the  Mall,  Quita  was  compelled  to 
own  herself  beaten. 

A  jerk,  a  crash,  followed  by  darkness,  and  a  thud  that 
brought  her  half-overturned  dandy  into  violent  contact 
with  the  ground,  fairly  settled  the  matter.  The  "  mate  " 
had  missed  the  path ;  and,  but  for  an  instantaneous 
counter-jerk  on  the  part  of  the  men  behind,  Quita  would 
have  been  shot  down  the  khud,  instead  of  on  to  the  stony 
roadway.  As  it  was,  she  thrust  out  both  hands  to  save 
herself,  while  the  rain  pattered  through  the  light  lace 
scarf  on  to  her  head  and  neck.  The  lantern  glass  was 
broken,  and  the  "  mate,"  lamenting  volubly,  declared  that 
his  arm  appeared  to  be  broken  also.  Quita  herself  was 
ignominiously  damp  and  bedraggled ;  and  vanity  apart, 
going  on  was  out  of  the  question.  Even  getting  back, 
minus  the  lantern,  would  be  a  difficult  matter.  With 
tears  in  her  eyes,  and  fierce  disappointment  at  her  heart, 
she  submitted  to  the  inevitable. 

Michael  greeted  her  with  lifted  eyebrows,  and  an  ex- 
asperating chuckle. 

"  Thought  ten  minutes  of  it  would  be  enough  for  you," 
he  remarked  coolly ;  and  her  wrath  against  things  in 
general  vented  itself  on  him. 

"  Keally,  Michel,  you  are  detestable  !  It  was  not  enough. 
The  '  mate '  lost  his  footing,  and  the  lantern  broke.  Oh,  it's 
cruel  .  .  .  after  nearly  three  weeks  .  .  ." 

Her  voice  broke,  and  Michael,  thankful  to  see  her 
again,  took  one  of  her  hands  and  drew  her  towards  him. 

"  Pauvre  che'rie,"  he  said  more  gently.  "  Don't  break 
your  heart  over  it.  Send  a  note  to  say  you'll  come  to- 
morrow, and  cheer  me  up  a  bit  now,  like  the  sweet  sister 
you  are." 

There  was  nothing  else  to  be  done.  Arming  an  adven- 
turous sais  with  Maurice's  lantern,  an  alpenstock,  and  two 
notes  tied  up  in  a  scrap  of  oiled  silk,  Quita  choked  down 
her  misery,  and  did  her  utmost  to  comply  with  his  re- 
quest. But  the  meal  was  only  a  partial  success,  for  the 


JUST    IMPEDIMENT.  183 

rebellious  heart  of  her  was  out  there  in  the  rain,  following 
the  notes  to  their  destination. 

They  did  not  reach  it  till  well  after  eight  o'clock,  when 
those  who  awaited  her  had  given  up  all  hope,  and  were 
just  sitting  down  to  dinner. 

Lenox  still  wore  his  arm  in  a  sling,  and  the  lines  in  his 
face  looked  deeper  than  usual.  Otherwise  he  was  quite 
himself  again.  The  anxiety  in  his  eyes  gave  place  to 
dejection  as  Honor  handed  him  Quita's  note. 

"  Shall  I  open  it  for  you  ? "  she  added  gently. 

He  frowned,  and  thanked  her.  There  are  few  things 
more  galling  to  a  man  than  helplessness  over  trifles.  He 
laid  the  open  note  beside  his  plate,  and  its  half-dozen 
lines  of  love  took  him  an  amazingly  long  while  to  read : 
for  Quita,  like  many  spontaneous  natures,  had  the  gift  of 
making  herself  almost  seen  and  heard  by  means  of  a  few 
written  words.  He  tried  to  win  comfort  from  the  thought 
that  it  was  only  a  matter  of  getting  through  eighteen 
hours,  after  all,  and  roused  himself  resolutely  to  a  fair 
semblance  of  cheerfulness.  But  both  husband  and  wife 
were  too  keenly  sympathetic  to  be  quite  successful  in 
their  attempts  to  change  the  current  of  his  thoughts  ;  and 
their  own  hearts  were  heavy  with  a  great  anxiety  for 
Desmond's  life-long  friend,  Paul  Wyndham.  A  pheno- 
menal downpour  at  Dera  Ishmael  had  produced  a  pro- 
lific crop  of  fever  cases,  and  Wyndham's  had  taken  a 
serious  turn.  The  last  two  days  had  brought  such  dis- 
quieting news  that  Desmond  was  already  half-inclined  to 
throw  up  the  rest  of  his  leave  and  go  straight  down  to 
Paul's  bedside.  The  possibility  of  broaching  the  subject 
to  his  wife  that  night  so  absorbed  his  mind  that  surface 
conversation  was  an  effort ;  and  all  three  were  thankful 
when  the  meal  was  over. 

"  Bring  your  coffee  and  cigars  into  the  drawing-room, 
and  we'll  have  some  music,"  Honor  said,  as  they  rose 
from  the  table,  and  Lenox  looked  his  gratitude.  Intimate 
speech  of  any  kind,  even  with  Desmond,  was  anathema 
to  him  just  then ;  and  his  full  heart  went  out  to  this 
woman,  whose  genius  for  divining  others'  needs  was  so 
unerring,  because  her  sympathies  were  so  deep  and  true. 

He  determined  to  put  Quita  out  of  his  head  for  the 


184  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

evening,  if  she  would  consent  to  stay  there ;  and  less 
than  five  minutes  after  this  triumph  of  common-sense,  a 
slight  stir  in  the  verandah  roused  him  to  unreasoning 
hope  that  it  might  be  she  after  all.  But  it  was  only 
Amar  Singh,  the  bearer,  with  a  telegram  for  Desmond. 

His  heart  stood  still  as  he  tore  it  open  ;  then  a  stifled 
sound  of  dismay  brought  Honor  instantly  to  his  side. 

"  Dearest — what  is  it  ? "  she  asked  under  her  breath. 

For  answer  he  handed  her  the  flimsy  scrap  of  paper, 
and  went  quickly  into  the  next  room.  Honor's  eyes  took 
in  the  curt  statement  at  a  glance. 

"  Leave  cancelled.  Return  at  once.  Infantry  for 
cholera  camp.  None  of  ours  yet.  Wyndham  worse. 
High  temperature  persists.  Condition  critical." 

A  low  sound  escaped  her,  and  she  passed  the  telegram 
to  Lenox.  It  was  from  her  brother,  Colonel  Meredith, 
now  in  command  of  the  regiment. 

"  A  double  blow,"  she  murmured  mechanically.  "  By 
this  time  it  may  be — all  over  ! " 

Her  lips  quivered,  but  she  did  not  follow  her  husband, 
knowing  that  in  the  first  bewilderment  of  grief  he  would 
prefer  to  be  alone.  And  Lenox  had  no  answer  for  her ; 
had,  in  fact,  scarcely  heard  what  she  said.  Then,  as  his 
brain  grasped  the  latter  half  of  the  telegram,  he  glanced 
at  her.  He  had  never  seen  her  look  less  like  herself. 

"  I'm  afraid  this  has  hit  you  hard,"  he  said,  with  more 
of  feeling  in  his  eyes  than  he  knew  how  to  put  into  his 
tone.  "  But  you  mustn't  take  the  worst  for  granted. 
Desmond  won't,  if  I  know  anything  of  him." 

"  I  hope  not.  But  this  is  ...  Paul ;  and  you  don't 
know  what  that  means  to  us  both.  Besides  .  .  .  the 
saints  of  the  earth  are  always  taken  too  soon." 

"  No,  not  always.  Fate  does  sometimes  make  mistakes 
on  the  right  side  ...  by  accident,"  he  added  grimly. 
"  I  suppose  one  of  these  has  gone  to  the  Strawberry  Bank. 
I  must  send  Zyarulla  off  at  once  to  get  my  traps  together. 
It  means  starting  first  thing." 

She  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"  Yes.  But  not  you,  surely.  You're  hardly  fit  for  duty 
yet." 

"  Nonsense.     Barring  my  arm,  I'm    fit  for   anything. 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  185 

And  if  we're  in  for  cholera,  I  don't  see  myself  leaving 
Dick  to  handle  the  Battery  without  me." 

"You're  bound  to  ask  Dr  O'Malley's  permission, 
though." 

"Yes,  worse  luck.  But  I  fancy  I  shall  square  him. 
At  the  same  time — it's  hard  lines " 

He  broke  off  short.  The  thing  did  not  bear  speak- 
ing of. 

"  It  is  bitterly  hard  lines,  for  you  both,"  Honor  an- 
swered, looking  away  from  him.  But  she  knew  the  best 
men  of  her  service  too  well  to  suggest  that,  without 
straining  a  point,  he  might  honestly  be  declared  unfit  for 
duty. 

"  At  least  it  will  be  a  comfort  to  her  having  you  here," 
he  went  on  mechanically,  because  the  thing  had  to  be 
said  somehow.  "  I'll  leave  a  note,  of  course,  but  I'd  be 
grateful  if  you'd  take  it  for  me  some  time  in  the  morning. 
She  may  not  understand  how  impossible  it  is  for  a  man 
to  hold  back — on  any  pretext,  at  a  time  like  this,  and  I 
know  I  can  trust  you  to  make  things  clear  to  her.  You're 
more  than  half  a  soldier  yourself." 

"  So  I  ought  to  be ! "  Honor  answered,  inexpressibly 
touched  by  his  confidence  in  her.  "  And  of  course  I 
would  go  to  her  if  I  were  here.  But  to-morrow  I  shall 
be  on  my  way  back  to  Dera  with  you  both." 

"  Dera ! — But  that  would  be  madness.  Do  you  suppose 
Desmond  would  ever  hear  of  such  a  thing  ? " 

"  I  haven't  supposed  anything  about  it  yet,"  she  an- 
swered, smiling.  "  I  only  know  that  I  can't  let  him  go 
down  into — all  that,  alone.  Now  I  must  say  good- 
night, and  go  to  him.  We'll  make  all  arrangements  for 
the  journey,"  she  added,  as  they  shook  hands,  "  and 
Zyarulla  will  do  the  packing  for  you.  So  be  sure  and 
get  some  sleep  when  you  have  seen  Dr  O'Malley." 

His  face  hardened. 

"  I  only  know  one  way  to  make  sure  of  that,"  he  said, 
avoiding  her  eyes. 

"  Oh,  no,  no ;  not  that  way,  please." 

"  I  imagine  it'll  be  that  or  none,"  he  answered  almost 
roughly,  as  he  turned  away,  and  with  a  sigh  Honor 
followed  her  husband  into  the  dining-room. 


186  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

He  sat  with  his  back  to  her,  elbows  planted  on  the 
writing-table,  his  head  between  his  hands.  But  at  her 
approach  he  looked  up,  and  with  a  sharp  contraction  of 
heart  she  saw  that  tears  stood  in  his  eyes.  A  woman 
takes  small  account  of  her  own  wet  lashes,  but  a  man's 
tears  are  like  drops  of  blood  wrung  from  the  heart. 

Honor  took  his  head  between  her  hands,  and  kissed 
him,  long  and  tremulously.  After  that  there  seemed  no 
need  for  words  on  the  subject  nearest  their  hearts. 

"  You  knew  why  I  didn't  come  sooner  ? "  was  all  she 
said,  and  Desmond  pressed  the  hand  resting  on  his 
shoulder.  Then,  seating  herself  opposite  him  on  the  edge 
of  the  table,  she  glanced  at  the  telegraph  form  lying 
before  him. 

"  Are  you  wiring  for  more  news  ? " 

"  Yes.  I  want  an  '  urgent,'  care  of  the  Station-master, 
to  catch  me  at  Lahore  to-morrow  night,  and  another  at 
Jhung  dak  bungalow  next  day ;  unless  ...  of  course  .  .  ." 

"  Hush,  hush.     You  must  not  think  of  that." 

He  frowned,  and  was  silent.  The  two  men  loved  one 
another  as  men  linked  by  half  a  lifetime  of  toil  and  ambi- 
tion learn  to  love, — or  hate ;  and  in  the  face  of  a  calamity 
so  unthinkable,  even  Desmond's  incurable  hopefulness 
was  shaken. 

"Captain  Lenox  believes  he  will  be  allowed  to  go," 
Honor  went  on  after  a  pause.  "  But  he's  hardly  fit  for  it, 
is  he?" 

"  Not  quite,  perhaps,  though  he's  made  of  iron  under  it 
all,  and  if  he's  set  on  going,  I  don't  fancy  O'Malley  will 
stand  in  his  way." 

"I  told  him  we  would  make  all  travelling  arrange- 
ments, and  you'll  be  sending  Dunni  out  with  this,  I 
suppose  ? " 

"  Yes.    At  once.    Why  ? " 

"  Because  I  want  him  to  take  a  note  to  Mrs  Rivers  at 
the  same  time." 

"  Mrs  Rivers  ?  Would  you  sooner  go  to  her  than  stay 
on  here  ? " 

Honor  smiled. 

"  Do  you  really  imagine  I  shall  stay  on  here  ?  " 

"Why  not?     It  would  save  the  trouble  of   moving; 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  187 

and  you  wouldn't  feel  lonely  with  the  little  chap  for 
company." 

"  But,  you  dear,  foolish  man,  can't  you  see  that  it's  you  I 
want  ? "  And  she  leaned  forward,  speaking  quickly  to 
stave  off  interruption.  "Don't  make  a  fuss  about  it, 
please;  because  I  have  settled  everything  in  my  mind. 
I'll  ask  Mrs  Eivers  to  take  baby  and  Parbutti  for  me.  I 
know  she  gladly  will.  As  for  me,  of  course  I  go  down  to 
Dera  to-morrow,  and  do  what  I  can  for  you  all." 

At  that  Desmond  straightened  himself;  and  Honor 
foresaw  one  of  those  pitched  battles,  which,  between 
natures  equally  imperious  and  hot-headed,  were  unavoid- 
able from  time  to  time ;  while  Desmond,  because  he 
meant  to  have  his  own  way,  dared  not  let  her  see  how 
profoundly  he  was  moved  by  this  culminating  proof  of 
her  devotion. 

"  My  dear  Honor,  the  thing  is  out  of  the  question,"  he 
said  decisively.  "  It's  splendid  of  you  even  to  think  of 
coming  down.  But  it  would  be  unpardonable  in  me  to 
allow  it,  so  be  a  sensible  woman  and  put  the  notion  out 
of  your  head,  once  for  all.  You  know  you  could  never 
bear  to  leave  little  Paul  when  it  came  to  the  point." 

"  I  could  ...  I  could.  Oh,  Theo,  don't  be  unreason- 
able over  this." 

"The  unreasonableness  is  yours,  my  dear.  If  this  is 
going  to  be  bad,  we  may  all  be  off  into  camp  before  the 
week's  out." 

"  Well,  then,  Frank  would  take  me  in  ...  and  at  least 
I  should  be  on  the  spot — in  case  .  .  .  Oh,  Theo,  I  must 
come!  Why  on  earth  shouldn't  I  be  there  just  as 
much  as  Frank,  and  that  little  missionary  woman,  Mrs 
Peters?" 

"Frank"  Olliver,  a  Major's  wife,  was  the  only  other 
woman  in  the  regiment,  and  hill  stations  were  not  (as  she 
would  have  expressed  it)  "in  her  line."  But  Desmond 
was  immovable. 

"That's  quite  another  matter.  Being  there  already, 
they  naturally  wouldn't  desert  their  post.  But  you  are 
here,  thank  God,  safe  out  of  it  all ;  and  I  must  insist  on 
your  remaining  here,  if  it's  only  for  my  sake."  A  half 
smile  dispelled  the  gravity  of  his  face.  "I've  a  notion 


188  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

that  when  you  married  me  you  promised,  among  other 
things,  to  obey  me!" 

"  Well,  I  was  driven  to.  It  was  the  only  way  to  get 
you.  But  I'm  sure  most  of  us  make  that  promise  with 
mental  reservations.  In  certain  cases  I  should  not  dream 
of  obeying  you,  Theo,  and  this  is  one ! " 

"  But  if  I  flatly  refuse  to  take  you  with  me  ? " 

"  I  suppose  I  should  have  to  follow  on  alone." 

He  looked  at  her  straightly  for  a  moment.  Then :  "  I 
don't  think  you  would  deliberately  defy  me,  Honor,"  he 
said  in  a  level  tone.  "  I  couldn't  put  up  with  that,  even 
from  you." 

There  was  a  short  silence.  She  saw  that  in  direct  op- 
position to  his  will  she  could  go  no  further.  But  the 
woman  who  loves,  and  knows  herself  beloved,  has  subtler 
weapons  at  command.  Setting  her  two  hands  upon  his 
shoulders,  and  bringing  her  beautiful  face  very  close  to 
his,  Honor  returned  her  husband's  look  with  a  smile  so 
mutely  beseeching,  that  his  fortitude,  already  under- 
mined by  the  news  from  Dera,  began  to  waver,  and  she 
saw  it. 

"  My  very  dearest,"  she  said,  on  a  low  note  of  tender- 
ness, "of  course  I  would  never  defy  you.  But  don't 
break  my  heart  by  pushing  me  on  one  side,  and  leaving 
me  up  here  alone,  idle,  anxious,  when  there  is  real  work — 
woman's  work — waiting  to  be  done  down  there.  I'm  as 
strong  as  a  church,  you  know  that.  And  I  could  help 
with  Paul  when  he  is  convalescent.  We  could  have  him 
in  the  bungalow.  I  know  separation  is  bound  to  come 
some  day.  But  not  in  this  terrible  fashion,  and  not  yet. 
Please,  Theo,  not  yet." 

Then,  because  tears  threatened,  she  leaned  down  till 
her  forehead  rested  against  his  shoulder,  and  furtively 
dried  her  lashes  with  the  back  of  her  hand.  When  a 
strong  woman  lays  aside  her  strength,  and  relies  on  the 
inherent  power  of  her  womanhood,  no  man  on  earth  is  a 
match  for  her.  Desmond  could  only  surrender  at  dis- 
cretion, and  take  her  altogether  to  himself. 

"  And  you  began  by  saying  you  would  never  defy  me ! " 
he  whispered  into  her  ear.  "  What  else  do  you  call  this, 
I  wonder  ?  You  incurable  woman  !  Is  it  really  because 


JUST    IMPEDIMENT.  189 

you  are  so  keen  to  help,  or  chiefly  because  you  want  to  be 
in  my  pocket  ?  Which  ? " 

"Chiefly  because  I  want  to  be  in  your  pocket," 
she  answered  without  shame,  and  he  kissed  her  bowed 
head. 

"  But  mind  you,"  his  tone  changed  abruptly,  "  I  have 
no  business  to  give  in  to  you ;  and  if  any  harm  should 
come  of  it,  I  could  never  forgive  myself.  I  believe  I 
should  blow  my  brains  out  on  the  spot." 

At  that  she  lifted  her  head  and  stood  up  beside  him. 

"  Theo,  you  shall  not  say  such  dreadful  things." 

"It's  no  more  than  the  truth,"  he  answered,  with  a 
touch  of  defiance.  "Lord,  how  you  women,  and  the 
children  you  give  us,  complicate  life  for  a  man  !  Yet  it's 
not  worth  a  brass  farthing  without  you  both." 

"  Thank  you  for  owning  that  much ! — Now  I  must  write 
my  note,  and  see  about  packing.  Come  up  soon,  dear. 
There's  an  endless  deal  to  do  before  we  can  think  of  going 
to  bed." 

On  his  way  up  to  join  her  twenty  minutes  later, 
Desmond  looked  into  Lenox's  small  room.  Zyarulla  had 
strewn  the  floor  with  books,  boots,  clothes,  and  a  couple  of 
boxes,  preparatory  to  going  into  action.  His  master, 
enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  blue  smoke,  sat  afar  off  directing 
the  plan  of  campaign.  A  great  peace  pervaded  his  aspect, 
and  the  unmistakable  fragrance  that  filled  the  room 
brought  two  deep  lines  into  Desmond's  forehead. 

"  Just  looked  in  to  find  out  how  you  were  getting  on," 
said  he.  "  Not  seen  O'Malley  already,  have  you  ? " 

"  No.  But  his  verdict  is  a  foregone  conclusion,  so  we're 
going  ahead  with  things.  Your  wife's  not  really  coming, 
is  she  ? " 

"Yes.  I  did  my  best  to  prevent  it;  but  there's  no 
gainsaying  her." 

"  Great  Scott,  she's  a  plucky  woman  !  You  must  have 
plenty  to  see  to  both  of  you.  Don't  let  me  keep  you,  old 
chap,  I'm  all  right." 

"  Glad  to  hear  it.  You'll  sleep.  That's  certain.  But  I 
wish  to  goodness  you'd  given  Nature  a  chance." 

"  Nature  wouldn't  have  given  me  a  chance,"  the  other 
answered  with  sudden  heat.  "And  there's  a  limit  to 


190  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

what  a  man  can  stand.  By  the  way,"  he  added  in  an 
altered  tone,  "I  can't  tell  you  how  sorry  I  am  about 
Wyndham.  But  you  must  hope  for  the  best." 

"  Thanks,"  Desmond  answered  quietly.     "  Good-night." 

The  door  of  his  wife's  room  stood  ajar,  and  in  passing  it 
to  go  to  his  dressing-room,  his  thoughts  were  interrupted 
by  the  sound  of  a  muffled  sob.  Treading  softly,  he  pushed 
the  door  open,  and  looked  in. 

A  night-light  in  the  basin,  and  one  candle  on  the  dress- 
ing-table showed  him  a  tall  white  figure  bending  over  the 
rail  of  the  cot  where  his  son  lay  asleep.  Honor  had 
discarded  her  dinner  dress  for  a  light  wrapper,  and  her 
loosened  hair  fell  in  a  dusky  mass  almost  to  her  knees. 

For  a  few  seconds  Desmond  stood  watching  her,  uncer- 
tain whether  to  intrude  upon  her  grief  or  no.  He  knew 
her  peculiar  dread  of  separation  from  those  she  loved, 
knew  that  throughout  the  sixteen  months  of  her  child's 
life  she  had  never  left  him  for  more  than  a  few  hours 
except  to  go  to  Chumba,  and  then  not  without  remon- 
strance. Yet  she  was  leaving  him  now  of  her  own  free 
will,  for  an  indefinite  time,  and  in  the  full  knowledge  of 
the  grim  possibilities  ahead.  It  is  in  such  rare  moments 
of  revelation  that  a  man  realises  dimly  what  it  may  mean 
for  a  woman  dowered  with  the  real  courage  and  dignity 
of  self-surrender  to  give  herself  to  him ;  that  he  is  vouch- 
safed a  glimpse  into  that  mystery  of  love,  which  cynics 
of  the  decadent  school  dismiss  as  "  amoristic  sentiment," 
a  fictitious  glorification  of  mere  natural  instinct.  But 
Desmond  took  a  simpler,  more  reverential  view  of  a 
quality  which  he  believed  to  be  the  most  direct  touch  of 
the  Divine  in  man,  and  which  he  had  proved  to  be  the 
corner-stone  of  his  wife's  character. 

He  went  forward  at  length,  but  so  noiselessly  that 
Honor  had  no  idea  of  his  presence  till  his  arms  came 
round  her  from  behind,  and  drew  her  up  so  close  against 
him  that  her  wet  cheek  touched  his  own. 

"  Theo  .  .  .  that  wasn't  fair ! "  she  protested  with  a 
little  broken  laugh. 

"  Not  quite.     But  I  couldn't  resist  it." 

Then  they  stood  silent,  looking  down  at  the  sleeping 
child. 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  191 

He  lay  on  his  back,  one  half-opened  hand  flung  high 
above  his  head,  and  the  fair  soft  face,  in  its  halo  of  red- 
gold  hair,  bore  the  impress  of  the  angelic,  that  only  comes 
with  sleep,  and  vanishes  like  magic  at  the  lifting  of  the 
eyelids. 

Suddenly  Desmond  tightened  his  hold  of  her,  and  by 
a  mutual  impulse  their  lips  met. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

"  Our  frailties  are  invincible,  our  virtues  barren  ;  and  the  battle  goes 
sore  against  us  to  the  going  down  of  the  sun." — R.  L.  S. 

THE  rain,  which  had  set  in  with  such  quiet  determination 
at  sunset,  fulfilled  its  promise  of  continuing  through  the 
night :  and  the  pattering  on  the  slates  that  had  mingled 
with  Quita's  latest  thoughts  greeted  her,  with  derisive 
iteration,  when  she  opened  her  eyes  next  morning.  But 
its  power  to  thwart  her  was  at  an  end.  Now  that  day- 
light was  come,  nothing  short  of  a  landslip  could  with- 
hold her  from  the  thing  she  craved.  The  thought  leaped 
in  her  brain  before  she  was  fully  awake.  "And  after 
all,  why  should  I  wait  till  the  afternoon,"  was  her  prac- 
tical conclusion.  "  I'll  go  down  at  eleven." 

With  that  she  sprang  out  of  bed,  and  slipping  on  a  dull 
blue  dressing-gown,  hurried  into  the  dining-room,  where 
she  and  Michael  always  met  for  chota  hazri. 

Here  she  found  him,  in  Japanese  sleeping  suit  and 
slippers,  smiling  contentedly  over  an  item  of  his  early 
post. 

"  What's  pleasing  you,  mon  cher  ?  "  she  asked  absently, 
depositing  a  light  kiss  on  his  hair.  For  a  woman  in  love 
— and  a  man  no  less — is  as  royally  indifferent  to  the  joys 
and  sorrows  of  all  creation  as  childhood  itself. 

"  A  letter  from  my  pretty  Puritan.  It  is  not  for  noth- 
ing that  she  has  f  those  straight  brows,  and  that  small 
resolute  chin.  She  will  not  be  thrust  down  any  man's 
throat  for  all  the  hen -sparrows  in  Christendom!" 


192  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  Why — what  does  she  say  ? "  Quita  asked,  peering 
critically  into  the  teapot,  and  wondering  how  it  would 
feel  to  pour  out  Eldred's  early  tea! 

"Listen  then;  and  judge  for  yourself: 

" '  DEAR  MR  MAURICE, — There  seems  to  have  been  an 
unlucky  misunderstanding  between  you  and  mother 
yesterday.  But  I  hope  this  need  not  make  any  real 
difference  in  our  friendship.  Because  I  think  we  have 
always  understood  each  other,  haven't  we  ?  Of  course  if 
my  parents  prefer  that  we  should  not  be  about  together 
quite  so  much,  there  is  no  help  for  it.  But  at  least  I 
would  like  you  to  know  that  I  am  still,  as  I  always  have 
been,  your  friend  (if  you  wish  it) 

"'ELSIE  MAYHEW.'" 

"  Tiens  !  How  is  that  for  your  '  child  of  twenty '  ?  It 
is  the  letter  of  a  woman  ;  and  a  woman  with  an  exquisite 
sense  of  her  own  dignity  into  the  bargain." 

Quita  smiled  thoughtfully  as  she  buttered  her  toast. 

"  I  am  wondering  how  she  would  have  answered  if  you 
had  asked  her,"  was  all  she  said.  "  I  don't  feel  quite  so 
certain  as  I  did  last  night." 

"Ni  moi  non  plus.  Which  makes  the  situation  just 
twice  as  interesting.  For  all  the  Button  Quail's  beak  and 
claws,  1  fancy  I  shall  see  more  of  my  Undine  yet ! " 

With  a  chuckle  of  satisfaction,  he  fell  to  re-reading 
Elsie's  note:  and  Quita,  immersed  in  her  own  affairs, 
promptly  forgot  them  both. 

An  hour  later  she  reappeared — her  whole  face  and 
form  radiating  the  light  within ;  went  straight  to  her 
easel,  flung  aside  its  draperies,  and  surveying  her  work 
of  the  previous  day,  found  it  very  good.  But  there  were 
certain  lines  and  shadows  that  displeased  her  critical  eye. 
She  would  study  his  face  afresh  this  morning,  with  the 
twofold  appreciation  of  heart  and  brain,  and  surprise 
him  with  the  picture  when  it  was  nearer  completion. 

Just  then  the  bearer,  entering,  handed  her  a  note. 
She  opened  it  eagerly — recognising  Eldred's  handwriting 
— and  read,  with  a  bewilderment  bordering  on  despair, 
the  stoical  statement  of  facts  set  down  by  Lenox  in  the 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  193 

first  bitterness  of  disappointment,  ten  hours  ago.  The 
shock  staggered  her  like  a  blow  between  the  eyes.  Her 
lips  parted  and  closed  on  a  soundless  exclamation.  The 
abrupt  change  in  her  face  was  as  if  a  light  had  been 
suddenly  blown  out. 

" Mon  Dieu,  .  .  .  cholera!"  she  murmured  helplessly, 
putting  one  hand  over  her  eyes  as  if  to  shut  out  the 
horror  of  it.  "This  is  my  punishment  for  ever  having 
let  him  go." 

Then,  as  if  in  hope  of  discovering  some  mitigation 
of  her  sentence,  she  re-read  the  short  letter,  lingering 
on  the  last  paragraph,  which  alone  contained  some  ray 
of  comfort,  some  assurance  of  the  strong  love  that 
was  at  once  the  cause  and  the  anodyne  of  their  mutual 
pain. 

"  And  now,  my  dearest "  (Lenox  wrote),  "  what  more 
can  I  say,  except — be  of  good  courage,  and  write  to  me 
often.  The  rest,  and  there's  a  good  deal  of  it,  can't  be 
put  upon  paper.  That's  the  curse  of  separation.  Start 
a  picture,  and  throw  your  heart  into  your  work,  as  I 
must  into  mine.  God  knows  when  I  shall  see  you  again. 
But  trust  me,  Quita,  as  soon  as  ever  I  can,  and  dare,  to 
put  an  end  to  this  intolerable  state  of  things. — Till  then, 
and  always,  your  devoted  husband,  E.  L." 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  signed  himself  thus :  and 
the  envelope  was  addressed  '  Miss  Maurice ' !  The  irony 
of  it  cut  her  to  the  quick.  Tears  of  self-pity,  flooding  her 
eyes,  startled  her  back  to  reality ;  and  sent  her  stumbling 
towards  her  own  room.  But  before  she  could  reach  it, 
Michael's  voice  arrested  her. 

"Come  on,  Quita,"  he  shouted  good  -  humouredly. 
"Where  are  you  off  to?  I  want  my  breakfast." 

She  turned  upon  him  a  face  distorted  with  grief. 

" Parbleu,  chdrie,  qu'y -a-  t'il  a  maintenant  ?  "  he 
demanded,  with  an  odd  mingling  of  irritation  and 
concern. 

"Cholera  at  Dera  Ishmael  —  Eldred's  gone  down 
this  morning.  .  .  ."  Then  tears  overwhelmed  her,  and 
she  turned  sharply  away.  "Oh  go,  ...  go,  and  have 

N 


194  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

your  breakfast,  Michel ;  and  let  me  be.  I  want  nothing, 
nothing,  but  to  be  left  alone." 

And  vanishing  into  her  room,  she  bolted  the  door 
behind  her. 

Maurice  frowned,  and  sighed.  In  all  his  knowledge  of 
her,  Quita  had  never  so  completely  lost  her  self-control. 
It  was  quite  upsetting :  and  he  disliked  being  upset  the 
first  thing  in  the  morning.  It  put  him  out  of  tune  for 
the  rest  of  the  day.  But  after  all  .  .  one  must  eat. 
And  he  retraced  his  steps  to  the  dining-room. 

"  I  wish  to  heaven  she  had  never  discovered  this  un- 
comfortable husband  of  hers ! "  he  reflected  as  he  went. 
"  Since  he  will  neither  marry  her,  nor  leave  her  alone : 
and  it  is  we  who  have  to  suffer  for  his  heroics ! " 

For  all  that,  he  found  speedy  consolation  in  the  thought 
that  at  ten  o'clock  a  new  '  subject '  was  coming  to  sit  to 
him : — a  wrinkled  hag,  whom  he  had  met  on  his  way  back 
from  Jundraghat,  bent  half  double  under  a  towering  load 
of  grass,  her  neutral  -  tinted  tunic  and  draped  trousers 
relieved  by  the  scarlet  of  betel-nut  on  her  lips  and  gums, 
and  by  a  goat's -hair  necklet  strung  with  raw  lumps  of 
amber  and  turquoise,  interset  with  three  plaques  of  beaten 
silver; — the  only  form  of  savings  bank  known  to  these 
simple  children  of  the  hills. 

While  hastily  demolishing  his  breakfast,  Maurice  visual- 
ised his  picture  in  every  detail :  and  with  the  arrival  of 
his  model  all  thought  of  Quita  and  her  woes  was  crowded 
out  of  his  mind.  Yet  the  man  was  not  heartless,  by  any 
means.  He  was  simply  an  artist  of  the  extreme  type, 
endowed  by  temperament  with  the  capacity  for  subordin- 
ating all  things, — his  own  griefs  no  less  than  the  griefs  of 
others, — to  one  dominant,  insatiable  purpose.  And  accord- 
ing to  his  lights  he  must  be  judged. 

Quita  remained  invisible  till  lunch-time,  lying  inert, 
where  she  had  flung  herself,  upon  her  unmade  bed. 

The  first  tempest  of  misery,  and  rebellion,  and  self- 
castigation  had  given  place  to  sheer  exhaustion.  For  even 
suffering  has  its  limitations ;  which  is  perhaps  the  reason 
why  grief  rarely  kills.  All  the  springs  of  life  seemed 
suddenly  to  have  run  down.  Her  spirit  felt  crushed  and 


JUST   IMPEDIMENT.  195 

broken  by  the  obstructiveness  of  all  about  her.  The  strain 
of  the  past  three  weeks,  following  upon  a  severe  shock, 
had  told  upon  her  more  than  she  knew ;  and  this  morn- 
ing's sharp  revulsion  of  feeling  brought  her  near  to  purely 
physical  collapse. 

And  while  she  lay  alone  through  two  endless  hours, 
tracing  designs  from  the  cracks  in  the  whitewashed  wall, 
one  conviction  haunted  her  with  morbid  persistence.  Be- 
cause she  had  not  valued  him  in  the  beginning,  because 
she  had  repudiated  him  in  a  moment  of  wounded  pride, 
he  would  be  taken  from  her,  now  that  heart  and  soul  were 
set  upon  him,  and  she  would  never  see  him  again.  It  was 
useless  to  argue  that  the  idea  was  childish ;  a  mere  night- 
mare of  overwrought  nerves.  It  persisted  and  prevailed, 
till  she  felt  herself  crushed  in  the  grip  of  a  relentless,  im- 
personal Force,  against  which  neither  penitence  nor  tears 
would  avail. 

Finally,  worn  out  with  pain  and  rebellion,  she  fell 
asleep. 


196 


BOOK  III.-THE  TENTS  OF  ISHMAEL. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

"  Leave  the  what  at  the  what's-its-name. 
Leave  the  sheep  without  shelter  ; 
Leave  the  corpse  uninterred, 
Leave  the  bride  at  the  altar." 

— KIPLING. 

EVEN  in  a  land  where  danger  and  discomfort  flourish  like 
the  ungodly,  that  journey  from  the  cedar-crowned  Hima- 
layas to  the  white  hot  flats  of  the  Derajat,  with  the  Punjab 
furnace  in  full  swing,  was  an  experience  not  readily  for- 
gotten by  the  three  who  set  out  upon  it  in  the  dripping 
grey  dawn  of  a  July  morning.  Before  them  stretched 
two  nights  and  three  days  of  pure  martyrdom,  aggravated 
by  that  prince  of  evils — a  troubled  mind :  for  the  Desmonds 
a  haunting  anxiety,  and  for  Lenox  the  harassing  realisa- 
tion that  his  own  strength  or  weakness  during  the  next 
few  months  stood  for  no  less  than  the  happiness  or  misery 
of  the  only  woman  on  earth.  It  is  this  irrevocable  fusion 
of  two  lives,  and  the  network  of  responsibilities  arising 
from  an  act  less  simple  than  it  seems,  that  constitute  the 
strength,  the  charm,  the  tragedy  of  marriage :  and  a  dim 
foreknowledge  of  its  complexity  dawned  upon  Lenox  during 
his  penitential  progress  into  a  land  of  fire  and  death. 

Throughout  their  fifty  mile  descent  to  the  foot-hill 
terminus  it  rained  perseveriugly.  But  toward  evening 
the  clouds  parted;  and  an  hour  of  sunshine  set  the 
drenched  earth  steaming  like  a  soup  kettle  when  the  lid 
is  lifted  off.  Desmond  had  ordained  that  Lenox  and  his 
wife  should  be  carried  down  in  doolies ;  an  indignity  to 
which  they  submitted  under  protest :  and  Honor,  scram- 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  197 

bling  out  of  her  prison  through  an  opening  level  with  the 
ground,  passed  quite  gratefully  from  its  stuffy  twilight, 
redolent  of  sodden  canvas  and  humanity,  to  the  smell  of 
hot  wood  and  leather  that  pervaded  the  sun-saturate 
railway  carriage  awaiting  them  in  Pathankot  station. 

With  the  unhurried  deftness  of  an  experienced  pilgrim, 
she  set  about  making  the  place  cooler,  and  more  habitable ; 
drew  up  all  the  window-shutters ;  opened  her  bedding  roll ; 
and  taking  possession  of  Lenox,  established  him,  with 
tender  imperiousness,  in  the  least  stifling  corner,  a  pillow 
set  lengthways  behind  him.  He  leaned  against  it,  and 
closed  his  eyes. 

"Head  bad?"  she  asked  a  little  anxiously.  For  the 
concussion  headache  is  no  child's  play ;  and  ten  hours  in 
a  doolie  might  breed  neuralgia  in  a  cannon-ball. 

"Pretty  average.  Nothing  to  trouble  about."  The 
assurance  was  not  convincing :  and  she  gleaned  the  truth 
from  two  deep  lines  in  his  forehead. 

"  I'm  going  to  make  you  some  tea  in  a  minute,"  she 
announced  cheerfully,  opening  her  basket,  and  clamping 
a  travelling  spirit-lamp  to  the  woodwork  above  the  seat. 
"  Eeal  tea.  Not  the  stewed  leaves  and  water  we  should 
pay  six  annas  for  outside !  There's  half  a  dozen  of  soda, 
three  pints  of  champagne,  a  fowl,  and  an  aspic  in  the  ice- 
box under  your  seat.  But  tea  would  be  best  now.  We'll 
keep  the  rest  for  your  dinners." 

He  opened  his  eyes  and  smiled  at  her. 

"  You've  a  remarkable  talent  for  spoiling  a  man  ! " 

"  It's  one  I'm  very  proud  of,"  she  answered  simply :  and 
leaning  out  of  the  open  doorway,  caught  sight  of  her 
husband  striding  down  the  platform,  closely  followed  by 
an  army  of  coolies,  two  bearers,  and  two  pessimistic- 
looking  dogs  on  chains.  "  Theo,"  she  called,  "  do  leave 
that  eternal  luggage  to  Amar  Singh,  and  come  and  be 
spoilt !  We're  going  to  have  tea." 

Before  the  train  jolted  out  of  the  station,  she  had 
served  it  to  them  in  large  cups,  an  insubstantial  biscuit 
in  each  saucer  :  for  it  is  drink,  not  food,  that  a  man  wants 
when  the  thermometer  stands  at  110°  in  the  shade. 

At  Umritsur  the  train  halted  for  half  an  hour.  The 
thermometer  had  not  fallen  with  the  sun ;  and  when  the 


198  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

faint  breeze  of  their  going  died  down,  there  seemed  to  be 
no  air  left  to  breathe. 

Lenox  dined  regally  out  of  the  ice-box :  while  Desmond 
and  Honor,  silencing  his  protests  by  flight,  carried  off 
iced  soda  and  a  whisky-flask  to  the  frowsy,  airless  refresh- 
ment room,  where  they  wrestled  undismayed  with  curried 
kid,  the  ubiquitous  chicken  cutlet,  and  two  plates  of  dis- 
coloured water,  —  flavoured  with  jharron,1  —  that  mas- 
queraded as  clear  soup.  Two  quarrelsome  Eurasians 
shared  their  table.  A  punkah  that  may  once  have  been 
white  waggled  officiously  overhead.  But  for  all  that  the 
flies  were  lords  of  the  meal ;  and  enjoyed  it  far  better 
than  those  who  paid  for  it. 

"  Thank  God  for  my  good  dinner ! "  Desmond  muttered 
with  a  wry  face  as  he  put  down  his  money.  "  You  must 
supplement  it  out  of  Lenox's  rations,  old  lady.  Hukm 
hai  .  .  .  sumja?"2 

She  laughed  and  shrugged  her  shoulders.  Having  won 
the  victory  that  mattered,  she  could  afford  to  be  sub- 
missive over  trifles. 

An  hour  or  so  before  midnight,  they  clanked  into 
Lahore  station — a  big  -  bastioned  building,  whose  solid 
masonry  breathed  fire,  as  literally  as  any  dragon  of  ro- 
mance. Within  was  a  great  darkness,  partially  dispelled 
by  hanging  oil  -  lamps ;  and  babel  enough  to  wake  the 
Seven  Sleepers.  The  uninitiated  arriving  at  an  Indian 
railway  station  are  apt  to  imagine  that  a  riot  of  some  sort 
must  be  in  progress.  But  it  is  only  the  third-class 
passenger,  whose  name  is  legion,  fighting,  tooth  and  nail, 
for  the  foot  of  space  due  to  every  possessor  of  the  precious 
morsel  of  cardboard  tucked  into  the  folds  of  his  belt: 
because  he  knows,  from  harsh  experience,  that  when  the 
train  moves  on  more  than  a  few  will  be  left  disconsolate, 
to  watch  its  unwinking  eye  vanish  out  of  their  ken: — 
bewildered  adventurers,  for  many  of  whom  the  "fire- 
carriage  "  still  remains  a  new-fangled  god,  who  feeds  on 
coal  and  water,  and  can  only  be  propitiated  by  repeated 
offerings  of  that  wonder-working  hieroglyph — the  tikkut. 

At  Lahore  passengers  to  Dera  change  into  the  night 
mail  for  Mooltan :  and  almost  before  the  train  drew  up 

1  Duster.  2  It  is  an  order — you  understand  ? 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  199 

Desmond  was  out  on  the  platform,  pushing  his  way, 
purposefully,  through  a  mass  of  jostling,  shouting,  perspir- 
ing humanity:  —  Sikhs,  Punjabi  farmers,  moneylenders, 
'fat  and  scant  of  breath/  women  of  all  ages,  with 
apathetic  babies,  in  round  cap  and  necklet,  astride  upon 
their  hips.  In  the  station-master's  office  he  found  the 
fateful  red  envelope  awaiting  him:  and  broke  the  seal 
with  a  shaking  hand. 

"Crisis  over.  Condition  more  hopeful.  Will  wire 
Jhung." 

"  Thank  God ! "  he  muttered,  choking  down  a  lump  that 
had  risen  in  his  throat.  Then,  elbowing  his  way  back  to 
where  Honor  and  Lenox  stood  guard  over  a  disordered 
pile  of  luggage,  he  thrust  the  paper  into  her  hand. 

"We'll  bring  him  round  between  us,  you  and  I,"  he 
said,  as  she  looked  up ;  and  she  nodded  contentedly,  her 
eyes  deep  in  his.  He  could  no  longer  regret  having 
given  way  to  her :  and  she  knew  it ! 

They  were  not  the  only  English  passengers  in  the 
Mooltan  train.  Two  Dera  subalterns,  who  had  fled  post- 
haste from  Simla,  stood  smoking  outside  their  carriage : — 
Hodson,  the  'slacker'  of  the  Battery,  a  small  sallow 
individual,  with  heavy  -  lidded  eyes,  and  a  disagreeable 
mouth ;  and  Major  Olliver's  '  sub,'  Bobby  Nixon,  who 
answered  indiscriminately  to  half  a  dozen  names,  but 
was  officially  registered  as  The  Chicken,  a  tribute  to  his 
cheerful  lack  of  wisdom,  worldly  or  otherworldly,  and  to 
the  sparse  crop  of  '  down '  that  surmounted  an  extensive 
freckled  face,  and  shadowed  a  mouth  whose  one  beauty 
lay  in  its  readiness  to  smile  capaciously  upon  the  world 
at  large. 

As  Honor  and  Lenox  came  towards  him,  the  said  mouth 
screwed  itself  into  a  low  whistle. 

"Great  Scott,  Mrs  Desmond,  .  .  but  this  is  flagrant 
heroism !  Who'd  have  dreamt  of  meeting  you  here  ? " 

"A  pleasant  surprise,  I  hope,"  she  asked,  smiling,  as 
they  shook  hands. 

"  Why,  of  course  it's  always  good  to  see  you,"  the  boy 
answered,  looking  upon  her  with  frank  admiration.  "  And 


200  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

you  bet  we're  proud  to  have  our  ladies  facing  the  music 
with  us.  But  still  .  .  cholera's  cholera;  and  it  looks 
like  a  record  year.  They've  got  it  hot  and  strong  at  Mian 
Mir.  Two  of  the  Norfolks  came  down  the  hill  with  us, 
swearing  like  Billy  0.  Been  up  less  than  a  fortnight; 
and  there's  a  masked  ball  on  at  the  Club  to-morrow.  Oh 
Lord,  it's  a  lively  country !  Poor  old  Hodson  only  got  a 
week  in  Simla  ;  and  he  has  fever  on  him  still." 

Lenox  glanced  quizzically  at  the  man  he  desired  to  weed 
out  of  his  beloved  Battery  by  the  simple  means  of  making 
him  work. 

"Hard  luck,"  he  remarked;  a  suspicion  of  irony  in 
his  tone.  And  Hodson,  anathematising  under  his  breath 
India  in  general,  and  the  Frontier  in  particular,  strolled 
off  down  the  platform,  head  in  air.  There  was  little  love 
lost  between  him  and  a  commandant  for  whom  work  was 
the  backbone  of  life. 

Just  then,  through  the  open  windows  of  the  next 
carriage,  there  came  forth  a  voice  of  thunder — articulate, 
unparliamentary  thunder :  and  Lenox,  with  a  touch  of 
friendly  authority,  drew  Honor  farther  away. 

"That's  old  Buckstick,"  Bobby  explained  genially. 
"  Giving  it  to  his  poor  devil  of  a  bearer,  because  he  wants 
to  hit  out  at  some  one.  They  say  in  the  regiment  that 
some  fool  of  a  palmist  told  him  to  beware  of  cholera; 
and  I  believe  the  old  chap's  in  a  blue  funk.  Queer  thing, 
funk.  Put  that  man  on  an  unbroken  horse,  or  in  the 
thick  of  a  hand-to-hand  scrimmage,  and  he  wouldn't 
know  the  meaning  of  fear.  Yet  now  .  .  ." 

His  dissertation  was  interrupted  by  the  appearance  at 
the  window  of  Colonel  Stanham  Buckley  of  the  Punjab 
Infantry,  who  mopped  a  moist  bald  head,  and  inquired 
picturesquely  of  a  passing  official  when  the  blank  this 
blankety  blank  train  was  supposed  to  start.  Then  catch- 
ing sight  of  a  woman's  figure,  he  vanished,  with  a  final 
incoherent  explosion,  slamming  up  the  window  -  shutter 
behind  him. 

How  the  devil,  he  asked  himself  furiously,  should  a 
sane  man  expect  to  find  an  Englishwoman  hanging  about 
Lahore  station  on  a  murderous  night  of  July  ?  The  idea 
that  she  might  be  travelling  to  Dera  never  entered  his 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  201 

head.  His  own  wife,  after  five  years  of  Frontier  vicissi- 
tudes,—  aggravated  by  debt,  and  the  tyranny  of  'little 
drinks  at  mess/ — had  developed  pronounced  views  on  the 
duties  of  motherhood.  These  had  led  to  a  house  in  Surrey, 
which,  for  one  reason  or  another,  it  had  never  yet  seemed 
feasible  to  give  up:  and  Buckley  had  consoled  himself 
after  the  fashion  of  his  kind,  with  hard  drinking,  hard 
riding,  and  hard  swearing,  —  the  only  form  of  Trinity 
recognised  by  a  certain  type  of  mail. 

And  as  he  opened  his  ice-box,  and  helped  himself  to 
a  stiff  '  nightcap '  before  turning  in,  Desmond  joined  the 
group  outside. 

"  Come  on,  you  two,"  he  said,  grasping  an  arm  of  each. 
"  Dogs  and  luggage,  and  carriage  all  square.  We  shall  be 
off  in  a  minute.  Only  half  an  hour  behind  time !  See 
you  again  at  Chichawutni,  Nick.  Don't  lie  too  flat,  and 
get  apoplexy.  We  can't  afford  to  lose  willing  men  ! " 

They  met  again,  all  six  of  them,  on  the  Chichawutni 
platform,  in  a  dry  hot  dawn ;  for.  they  were  nearing  the 
desolation  of  the  Sindh  Sagar  desert,  where  the  monsoon 
is  a  negligible  quantity.  Lenox,  who  had  neither  slept 
nor  ^smoked  all  night,  looked  rather  more  rugged  than 
usual  in  the  clear  light;  but  otherwise  seemed  to  be 
bearing  the  journey  well.  'Old  Buckstick,'  as  he  had 
been  christened  by  irreverent  juniors,  raised  his  hat  to 
Honor  from  a  distance;  and  wondered  what  the  hell 
women  of  that  sort  were  made  of. 

Early  breakfast  over,  they  set  out  upon  a  six  hours' 
tonga  drive  to  Jhung ;  an  isolated  civil  station  fifty  miles 
off  the  line  of  rail.  Tortured  India  was  already  awake 
and  astir ;  and  along  an  interminable  road  of  fine  white 
dust,  covered  with  straw,  they  sped  at  a  hand -gallop 
between  converging  lines  of  sheesham-trees,  with  clank 
and  rattle  and  incessant  tooting  of  horns,  scattering  the 
unhurried  traffic  of  the  open  road : — a  procession  of  five 
tongas  loaded  to  the  limit  of  allowance  with  human 
beings,  dogs,  saddles,  and  battered  boxes.  In  all  direc- 
tions the  unprofitable  land  rolled  level  to  the  sky-line. 
Every  seven  or  eight  miles  they  stopped  to  change  ponies. 
Every  hour  the  heat  and  glare  grew  fiercer ;  the  clangour 
of  wheels  and  tonga-bar  more  assertive,  till  it  seemed  to 


202  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

beat  on  bared  nerves ;  and  the  terrible  thirst  of  the 
Frontier  took  hold  upon  the  dust -filled  throats  of  dog 
and  man  alike. 

It  is  possible  to  compress  a  good  deal  of  discomfort  into 
six  hours :  and  the  Dak  Bungalow,  in  its  noonday  quiet 
and  comparative  coolness,  seemed  an  Island  of  the  Blest 
after  the  glare  and  riot  of  the  road.  Here  the  Desmonds 
were  cheered  by  a  reassuring  telegram;  and  here  all 
rested  till  after  sundown,  when  the  pitiless  tongas 
claimed  them  again ;  and  all  night  long  they  fled  across 
the  open  desert  over  a  track  of  straw,  through  an  inter- 
minable darkness  strewn  with  stars. 

Now  and  again  a  handful  of  these,  seemingly  dropped 
to  earth,  heralded  a  changing  station,  and  a  halt  for  fresh 
ponies.  Here  would  be  brief  and  blessed  respite;  a 
moment  to  stretch  cramped  limbs:  moving  lights  that 
revealed  shadowy  shapes  of  men  and  horses :  much  apos- 
trophising of  the  Prophet,  interspersed  with  questionable 
jokes  and  laughter :  and  the  voice  of  the  pariah,  roused 
from  light  sleep,  or  the  absorbing  pursuit  of  fleas.  Here 
also  Colonel  Buckley  would  wake  up,  and  confound  crea- 
tion in  smothered  expletives,  mindful  of  Honor's  pres- 
ence ;  and  on  one  occasion  Hodson  was  heard  confiding  to 
the  Chicken  his  determination  to  '  get  quit  of  this  blasted 
Frontier '  on  the  first  opportunity.  Whereat  Lenox  lost 
his  apathy,  and  turned  upon  Desmond,  who  walked  be- 
side him. 

"  Listen  to  that  now  !  By  Jove,  he  shall  get  his  oppor- 
tunity sooner  than  he  thinks  for.  We  can't  have  young 
skrimshankers  of  his  kidney  patronising  the  finest  service 
in  India." 

"  Get  Richardson  to  give  him  a  taste  of  the  swimming- 
bath,  in  his  mess  kit,  when  the  cold  weather  comes ! " 
Desmond  suggested  with  a  laugh.  "I've  known  that 
knock  the  nonsense  out  of  some  of  'em." 

Lenox  nodded  thoughtfully. 

"  I'm  not  over-partial  to  that  form  of  argument,"  said 
he.  "  But  in  this  case,  I  believe  I  should  rather  enjoy  it." 

Then  the  voice  of  the  driver  requested  the  Heaven- 
borns  to  return  to  their  seats :  and  they  were  off  again, 
full  clatter,  half  a  dozen  pariahs  speeding  their  progress. 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  203 

Honor,  by  her  own  choice,  shared  the  back  seat  with  her 
husband  in  comparative  comfort.  His  enclosing  arm 
shielded  her,  as  far  as  might  be,  from  the  incessant  jolt- 
ing j  and  from  time  to  time,  in  utter  weariness,  her  head 
sank  upon  his  shoulder,  and  she  slept,  while  the  two  men 
smoked  and  talked  fitfully  in  undertones. 

Such  primitive  journeyings  are  fast  becoming  obsolete 
in  the  India  of  to-day,  where  the  railway  stretches  its 
antennae  in  all  directions,  and  the  horn  of  the  motor  has 
been  heard  beyond  Chaman.  Yet,  for  all  their  obvious 
discomforts,  they  possessed  their  own  peculiar  flavour  of 
interest  and  charm. 

Dawn  showed  them  the  Indus  at  last :  a  sheet  of  tar- 
nished silver,  five  miles  wide,  sprawling  over  the  colour- 
less country,  its  normal  banks  submerged  by  the  rush  of 
water  from  the  hills :  and  behind  them  day  sprang  out  of 
the  east,  '  a  tyrant  with  a  flaming  sword.' 

Through  eight  blazing  hours  that  sword  hung  bared 
above  them.  For  their  ferry-boat  was  a  native  barge, 
persuaded  rather  than  propelled  in  any  given  direction  by 
oars  as  long  as  punt  poles ;  and  set  with  one  unwieldy 
sail  that  could  neither  be  tacked  nor  furled ;  but  which 
provided  them,  for  a  time,  with  a  patch  of  burning 
shadow,  by  no  means  to  be  despised.  In  it  they  smoked 
and  picnicked,  and  made  merry  with  cards  and  dogs,  to 
the  best  of  their  ability ;  while  erratic  currents  bore  them 
from  sandbank  to  sandbank ;  each  collision  involving  an 
interlude  of  shouting,  shoving,  coaxing,  and  upbraiding  on 
the  part  of  four  assiduous  boatmen ;  and  when,  by  the 
mercy  of  God  and  the  river,  they  managed  to  run  aground 
on  the  farther  side,  it  was  nearing  four  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon. 

Here  were  more  tongas  awaiting  their  prey :  and  this 
time  the  travellers  hailed  them  gratefully:  for  the  swollen 
river  had  almost  invaded  the  gardens  of  outlying  bunga- 
lows; and  a  short  gallop  brought  them  at  last  into  the 
straggling  station,  whose  name  literally  signifies  the  Tents 
of  Ishmael.  But  the  day  of  tents  had  long  since  given 
place  to  the  day  of  spacious,  square-shouldered  bunga- 
lows, with  pillared  verandahs,  set  in  the  midst  of  ram- 
bling compounds,  where  the  ferasch  and  banana  flourished 


204  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

in  dusty  luxuriance,  while  orange,  pomegranate,  hybiscus, 
and  poinsettia, — to  say  nothing  of  marigolds  and  roses, — 
blazed  regally  in  the  blossoming  season  with  scarlet,  and 
crimson  gold.  A  bird's-eye  view  of  the  station  itself 
might  have  suggested  to  the  imaginative  eye  a  game  of 
noughts  and  crosses  scratched  on  a  Titanic  slate : — a  net- 
work of  wide  white  roads,  unrelieved  by  curve  or  undu- 
lation; their  rigidity  emphasised  by  equidistant  lines  of 
trees,  and  whitewashed  gate-posts,  innocent  of  gates. 

Into  one  of  these  openings  three  out  of  the  five  tongas 
finally  clattered  and  stood  still;  and  a  familiar  brogue 
gave  them  greeting  from  the  verandah. 

"  Praise  the  Powers,  ye've  got  here  at  last !  "We'd  begun 
to  think  you  might  be  setting  up  house  on  a  sandbank  for 
the  night ! " 

"  We've  had  our  fill  of  'em  without  that,  Frank,"  Des- 
mond answered  as  he  sprang  from  his  seat. 

For  the  voice  was  the  voice  of  Mrs  Olliver,  a  rough-cut 
Irishwoman,  whose  short  reddish  curls,  and  masculinity 
of  speech  and  manner,  cloaked  the  woman's  heart  that 
glowed  deep  down  in  her, — a  jewel  crusted  with  common 
clay.  Beside  her  stood  Max  Eichardson,  and  Colonel 
Meredith — a  big,  broad-shouldered  man,  extraordinarily 
like  his  sister  in  face  and  temperament — who  cleared  the 
steps  like  any  subaltern,  lifted  Honor  out  of  the  tonga, 
and  kissed  her  on  both  cheeks. 

"  You've  no  earthly  business  to  be  here,  you  know,"  he 
reprimanded  her  by  way  of  greeting.  "  I'll  tell  Theo 
what  I  think  of  him,  when  I  get  him  alone  ! " 

"  No,  please,  John,  you  mustn't,"  she  entreated  in  a  low 
tone.  "  He  did  his  best  to  prevent  me.  But  I  meant  to 
come  .  .  .  and  I  came ! " 

"  I  thought  as  much,  when  I  got  his  wire ! "  Then,  still 
keeping  hold  of  her,  he  shook  hands  with  Desmond. 
"  Mighty  glad  to  get  you  back,  Theo :  and  to  see  you 
looking  so  fit.  You'll  find  your  work  cut  out,  I  promise 
you." 

"  So  much  the  better.     Any  cases  ? " 

"  Not  yet,  thank  God.  We  must  steer  clear  of  camp,  if 
the  thing  can  be  done.  But  the  fever's  bad  enough. 
They're  dropping  like  flies  in  the  city,  poor  devils.  Our 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  205 

hospital's  crammed ;  and  two  '  subs '  on  the  sick-list  as 
well  as  Wyndham.  He's  going  on  all  right  now ;  but 
goodness  knows  when  he'll  be  fit  for  duty." 

"  I  want  to  see  Mackay  about  getting  him  over  here  as 
soon  as  possible.  May  I  borrow  Suliman,  and  ride  round 
at  once  ? " 

"  When  you've  got  outside  a  fair  allowance  of  tea  and 
sandwiches.  Not  a  minute  sooner  !  " 

"  Tea  ?  Rather  not.  But  I'd  sell  my  immortal  soul 
for  an  iced  peg!" 

While  they  talked,  Max  Richardson  had  led  his  friend 
into  the  lofty  shadowed  drawing-room,  that,  in  spite  of  a 
thermometer  at  96°,  struck  cool  as  a  grotto  after  the 
furnace  without :  and  Frank  Olliver,  consigning  Honor  to 
the  largest  arm-chair,  herself  presided  at  the  tray ;  apolo- 
gising, in  characteristic  fashion,  for  having  temporarily 
'  taken  over  charge.' 

"  But  bossing  the  show's  one  of  me  few  talents ;  an'  I'm 
not  for  wrapping  it  in  a  napkin.  Geoff  swears  I  took 
over  charge  of  creation  before  I'd  cut  me  first  tooth  ! 
Any  way  it  struck  me  that  perhaps  in  the  hustle  of  start- 
ing you'd  not  thought  of  sending  full  instructions ;  so  I 
just  came  over  this  morning,  and  made  free  with  your 
linen  cupboard,  an'  your  bazaar  account.  For  I  know 
how  it  feels  to  come  back  to  a  dead  house  at  this  time  of 
year.  —  Lord,  there's  that  Theo  man  off  again ;  incar- 
nate whirlwind  that  he  is  !  He'll  get  Major  Wyndham 
over  here  to-morrow,  sure  as  fate ;  though  the  good  man 
refused  my  pressing  invitation  a  week  ago.  And  'tis  the 
first  time  one  o'  me  own  brother  officers  has  denied  me 
the  only  kind  o'  Woman's  Rights  this  child's  ever  likely 
to  clamour  for ! " 

"  Hear,  hear,  Mrs  Olliver  ! "  Meredith  and  Richardson 
applauded  her,  as  she  held  out  both  hands  for  their  tea- 
cups ;  and  Lenox  smiled  amused  approval  from  the  depths 
of  his  chair. 

When  Desmond  returned  an  hour  later,  he  found 
Lenox's  luggage  in  the  verandah,  awaiting  removal,  and 
Lenox  himself  sitting  alone  in  the  drawing-room  with 
Brutus  and  his  pipe.  It  rested  on  his  knee,  held  in 
place  by  the  finger-tips  emerging  from  his  sling ;  and  as 


206  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

Desmond  entered  he  was  scientifically  pressing  its  con- 
tents into  place  with  the  ball  of  his  thumb. 

Impulsively  the  other  hurried  forward,  and  laid  an 
arresting  hand  on  his  arm. 

"  Not  that  again,  surely,  old  chap,"  he  said,  a  note  of 
anxiety  in  his  voice.  "  Do  you  quite  realise  how  many 
times  you  have  filled  it  in  the  last  thirty-six  hours  ? " 

Lenox's  fingers  closed  like  a  vice  upon  his  treasure. 

"  Can't  say  I've  troubled  to  keep  count,"  he  answered 
in  a  hard  voice.  "  And  I'm  damned  if  I  can  see  what 
right  you  have  to  take  me  to  task  about  it." 

"  Not  a  shadow  of  right,"  Desmond  owned  frankly. 
"  Except  that  I  care  immensely  what  comes  to  you,  and 
to  that  plucky  wife  of  yours  who  has  honoured  me  with 
her  friendship ;  and  whom  I  am  hoping  to  welcome  here 
— as  Mrs  Lenox  before  many  months  are  out." 

The  shot  took  effect.  "With  a  listless  movement  Lenox 
let  his  fingers  fall  apart ;  and  the  pipe  rolled  on  to  the  rug 
at  his  feet.  Here  Brutus  lazily  investigated  it  as  a  pos- 
sible treasure  trove ;  and  after  a  puzzled  sniff  or  two 
lifted  inquiring  ears  to  his  master,  who  was  looking 
absently  in  another  direction. 

Then  Desmond  stooped,  and  picked  it  up. 

"  Will  you  let  me  empty  it,  and  fill  it  from  my  own 
pouch  ? "  he  asked  quietly  :  and  Lenox  gave  silent  assent. 

"  No  doubt  I  seem  to  be  a  contemptible  brute  enough," 
he  added  bitterly,  while  the  transfer  of  tobaccos  was  in 
progress.  "  And  no  doubt  you're  not  far  wrong  either. 
But  if  you  could  get  inside  my  head  for  a  few  hours,  you 
might  possibly  understand." 

"  My  dear  Lenox,  it  is  just  because  I  understand  that 
I'm  keen  to  do  what  little  I  can  for  you,  even  at  the  risk 
of  being  damned  for  officiousness  !  If  your  head's  giving 
you  trouble,  why  not  take  a  genuine  dose  of  the  stuff  last 
thing ;  and  get  a  night  of  solid  rest  before  you  start  work  ? 
That  seems  to  me  safer  than  trifling  with  poison  in  the 
form  of  tobacco.  You  know  yourself  you'd  make  a  square 
stand  against  the  naked  drug.  It's  the  little  '  nips,'  the 
small  capitulations,  that  do  the  damage  in  the  long-run." 

He  held  out  the  pipe  :  and  Lenox,  clenching  his  teeth 
upon  it,  proceeded  to  set  it  alight. 


THE   TENTS   OP    ISHMAEL.  207 

"  Say  what  you  please  about  things  in  future,  Desmond." 

He  spoke  without  removing  his  eyes  from  the  match 
he  was  manipulating.  "  I  swear  I  won't  take  it  amiss 
again."  Then  he  rose  abruptly.  "  But  I  must  be  off 
now.  I  only  waited  to  see  you,  and — thank  you  before 
leaving.  You've  the  knack  of  putting  fresh  heart  into 
a  fellow  when  he  feels  played  out." 

Desmond  eyed  the  man  thoughtfully  for  a  second 
before  replying.  Every  line  of  him  proclaimed  utter 
weariness  of  soul  and  body. 

"  Anything  ready  for  you  over  there  ? "  said  he. 

"  Not  that  I  know  of.  But  Zyarulla  will  shake  things 
down  in  no  time." 

"  All  the  same,  as  your  luggage  is  handy,  why  not  stop 
on  here  ?  You'd  be  uncommonly  welcome ;  and  I  know 
Honor  would  be  glad  to  keep  an  eye  on  you  for  a  while 
longer." 

The  invitation,  given  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  took 
Lenox  aback. 

"  But,  my  good  chap,  .  .  .  you've  got  Wyndham  coming 
over." 

"Yes.  Thank  God.  To-morrow  or  next  day.  No 
distaste  for  Paul's  company,  have  you  ? " 

Lenox  smiled,  and  shook  his  head. 

"  Hang  it  all,  Desmond,  you  know  what  I  mean.  You 
and  your  wife  have  done  too  much  for  me  already.  There 
are  limits  to  a  man's  capacity  for  sponging  on  other  folks' 
generosity." 

"  Well,  if  that's  your  only  objection,  we'll  consider  the 
matter  settled !  Wyndham  goes  into  my  dressing-room ; 
so  the  boy's  nursery  is  at  your  service.  My  wife  is  never 
so  happy  as  when  she  has  her  hands  full ;  and  it'll  be  less 
trying  for  you  here,  than  in  your  own  empty  bungalow." 

The  last  words  flashed  a  suspicion  into  Lenox's  mind. 

"  Look  here,  man,"  he  broke  out  hotly,  his  eyes  search- 
ing Desmond's  face.  "  Isn't  it  you  yourself  who  would  be 
glad  to  keep  an  eye  on  me  ?  You're  half  afraid  I  shall 
knock  under  to  this  infernal  thing  if  I'm  too  much  alone. 
Is  that  it  ? " 

Desmond  met  question  and  glance  four-square. 

"  You  gave  me  leave  just  now  not  to  mince  matters, 


208  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

and  I  take  you  at  your  word,"  said  he.  "  To  acknowledge 
that  living  alone  may  make  the  fight  harder  for  you  is  no 
reflection  on  your  powers  of  resistance.  It  is  simple  fact ; 
and  no  earthly  good  can  come  of  disregarding  it.  In  your 
case  discretion  is  the  better  part  of  valour. — Now,  will 
you  be  reasonable,  and  accept  my  suggestion  in  the  spirit 
in  which  it  was  made  ? " 

He  held  out  his  hand.  Lenox  grasped,  and  wrung  it 
hard. 

"  Thanks,  old  chap,"  he  said.  "  I'll  stay  for  the  present. 
There's  no  withstanding  you  two." 

That  night  he  excused  himself  from  mess  :  and  long 
after  the  house  and  compound  had  fallen  asleep,  he  and 
Desmond  sat  together  in  the  dufta,  with  pipes  and  pegs, 
and  softly  snoring  dogs  at  their  feet,  talking  intermit- 
tently of  all  things  in  earth  and  heaven,  with  the  rare 
unreserve  bred  of  tobacco,  and  the  communicative  influ- 
ence of  midnight.  Talk  of  this  kind  draws  men  very 
close  together ;  and  in  the  course  of  it  Lenox  discovered 
— as  others  had  done  before  him — that  this  man  who  had 
become  so  intimately  linked  with  the  vital  issues  of  his 
life  was  no  mere  good  comrade,  but  a  dynamic  force, 
challenging  and  evoking  the  manhood  of  his  friends. 

When  they  parted  Lenox  felt  more  hopeful  than  he 
had  done  since  the  arrival  of  Quita's  note  ;  and  honest 
sleep  hung  heavy  on  his  eyelids. 

"  Don't  believe  you  need  the  dose  we  spoke  of  after 
all,"  Desmond  remarked  on  a  note  of  satisfaction. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  Thanks  to  you,  I  believe  I  shall 
sleep  like  a  top." 

Nor  was  he  disappointed. 

For  the  first  time  in  fifty-six  hours  he  took  his  fill  of 
natural  dreamless  sleep :  and,  on  waking  next  morning, 
the  first  sight  that  greeted  him  was  a  letter  from  Dal- 
housie,  propped  against  the  milk-jug  on  his  early  tea  tray. 


THE   TENTS   OF    ISHMAEL.  209 


CHAPTEE    XIX. 

"And  methought  that  beauty  and  terror  were  only  one,  not  two  ;" 
And  the  world  has  room  for  love  and  death,  and  thunder  and  dew  ; 
And  all  the  sinews  of  Hell  slumber  in  summer  air  ; 
And  the  face  of  God  is  a  rock  ;  but  the  face  of  the  rock  is  fair." 

— R.  L.  S. 

THAT  same  evening  after  sunset,  a  hospital  doolie  was 
set  down  in  the  verandah,  and  from  it  emerged  Paul 
Wyndham — a  long  lean  figure  of  a  man,  whose  most 
notable  features  were  deep  steadfast  eyes,  neither  blue  nor 
grey ;  a  mouth  of  extraordinary  gentleness  and  capacity 
for  endurance ;  and  the  grave  quietness  of  movement  and 
speech,  that  may  mean  power  in  perfect  equilibrium  or 
mere  dulness. 

Desmond  and  Honor  welcomed  him  with  unconcealed 
affection ;  and  for  himself,  his  descent  into  the  Valley  of 
the  Shadow  seemed  a  small  price  to  pay  for  a  convales- 
cence cheered  by  the  ministrations  of  these  two,  than 
whom  there  were  none  dearer  to  him  on  earth.  Of  the 
unalterable  nature  of  his  feeling  for  Honor,  both  husband 
and  wife  were  well  aware;  though  no  word  of  it  ever 
passed  their  lips.  They  were  aware,  also,  that  the  love  of 
a  man  like  Paul  Wyndham  was  a  thing  apart ;  implying 
neither  disloyalty  to  his  friend,  nor  the  remotest  danger 
to  any  of  the  three  concerned.  Conditions  inconceivable 
to  the  pedestrian  order  of  mind. 

Too  weak  to  fret  against  enforced  inaction  at  a  time  of 
stress,  Wyndham  passed  his  days  between  sleeping  and 
waking  and  eating ;  between  rare  talks  with  Lenox  and 
Desmond,  and  the  restfulness  diffused  through  heart  and 
brain  and  body  by  Honor's  constant  presence  at  his  bed- 
side. She  had  amply  fulfilled  the  promise  given  him 
more  than  four  years  ago  of  close  and  privileged  friend- 
ship ;  and  he  counted  himself  more  blest  in  its  possession 
than  many  a  man  who  wins  the  entire  woman,  to  find  her 
no  more  than  a  plaster  goddess  after  all. 

Honor  herself,  apart  from  the  natural  woman's  pleasure 
in  nursing  an  appreciative  patient,  was  thankful  for  a 
definite  demand  upon  her  time.  For  Theo  was  seldom 

o 


210  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

available  now,  except  for  an  occasional  after-dinner  drive, 
through  darkness  two  degress  cooler  than  high  noon ;  and 
beneath  her  surface  serenity  she  suffered  keenly  from  the 
ache  of  empty  arms ;  from  the  completeness  of  separation 
involved  in  leaving  a  child  too  young  to  span  distance 
even  by  hieroglyphs,  profusely  decorated  with  'kisses,' 
such  as  she  had  seen  women  treasure  in  the  days  of  her 
young  ignorance.  Mrs  Rivers  wrote  constantly  and 
copiously.  But  can  the  most  unwearied  pen  set  down  all 
that  a  mother  craves  to  know  about  her  child  ? 

At  the  end  of  a  week,  Lenox  was  with  them  still.  To 
his  sole  suggestion  of  departure,  Desmond  had  merely 
replied:  "My  dear  man,  don't  talk  nonsense.  When 
we've  had  enough  of  you,  we'll  let  you  know  it,  without 
ceremony ! "  And  Lenox,  strangely  loth  to  return  to 
his  bachelor  quarters,  took  him  at  his  word,  and 
stayed  on. 

Yet  the  two  men  saw  little  enough  of  one  another. 
For  on  the  Frontier  work  means  work :  and  when  cholera 
hovers  over  the  station  like  a  bird  of  prey,  it  is  carried  on 
with  redoubled  vigour.  Only  by  constant  occupation  can 
fear  and  fatalism  be  held  at  arm's -length.  Only  the 
infectious  mettle  of  the  British  officer  can  infuse  into  all 
ranks  that  cheerful  alertness  which,  at  a  time  of  epidemic, 
is  the  finest  safeguard  in  the  world.  There  is  much 
virtue,  also,  in  mere  routine,  one  of  the  wingless  good 
angels  of  earth;  and  only  those  who  have  proved  its 
power  to  drag  broken  heart  or  broken  body  through  the 
things  that  must  be  done,  estimate  it  at  its  true  value. 

In  Lenox's  case,  it  helped  to  deaden  the  prick  of  anxiety 
as  to  the  future  and  the  physical  ache  of  longing ;  for  as 
Commandant  with  two  out  of  four  subalterns  on  the  '  sick 
list,'  he  had  his  hands  full ;  and  Desmond,  the  Colonel's 
chosen  friend  and  ally  in  all  regimental  matters,  was  in 
the  same  enviable  condition.  The  more  so,  since  he  and 
Meredith  between  them  had  anticipated  the  modern 
theory  that  the  spread  of  cholera  or  fever  can  be  partially 
checked  by  a  determined  assault  on  flies  and  mosquitoes, 
the  great  disease  -  breeders  of  the  East;  a  suggestion 
received  at  that  time  with  a  mild  amusement,  bordering 
on  scorn.  But  the  two  men,  zealous  for  the  credit  and 


THE   TENTS    OF    ISHMAEL.  211 

welfare  of  the  regiment — the  Great  Fetish  'that  claims 
the  lives  of  all  and  lives  for  ever' — determined  to  give 
the  new  notion  a  fair  trial  in  their  own  Lines ;  and 
Desmond,  as  may  be  supposed,  flung  himself  heart  and 
soul  into  the  organisation  of  this  very  novel  form  of 
campaign !  Plunged  neck-deep  again  in  the  work  he 
loved,  there  seemed  no  limit  to  his  tireless  energy ;  and 
from  the  Colonel  downward,  all  were  heartily  glad  to  get 
him  back. 

Even  in  an  age  given  over  to  the  marketable  com- 
modity, England  can  still  breed  men  of  this  calibre.  Not 
perhaps  in  her  cities,  where  individual  aspiration  and 
character  are  cramped,  warped,  deadened  by  the  brute 
force  of  money,  the  complex  mechanism  of  modern  life : 
but  in  unconsidered  corners  of  her  Empire,  in  the  vast 
spaces  and  comparative  isolation,  where  old-fashioned 
patriotism  takes  the  place  of  parochial  party  politics, 
and  where,  alone,  strong  natures  can  grow  up  in  their 
own  way. 

It  is  to  the  Desmonds  and  Merediths  of  an  earlier  day 
that  we  are  indebted  for  the  sturdy  loyalty  of  our  Punjab 
and  Frontier  troops,  for  our  hold  upon  the  fighting  races 
of  the  North.  India  may  have  been  won  by  the  sword, 
but  it  has  been  held  mainly  by  attributes  of  heart  and 
spirit;  by  individual  strength  of  purpose,  capacity  for 
sympathy  and  devotion  to  the  interests  of  those  we  govern. 
When  we  fail  in  these,  and  not  till  then,  will  power  pass 
out  of  our  hands. 

That  there  was  no  such  failure  among  the  little  band  of 
Englishmen  throughout  that  inglorious  campaign  against 
an  enemy  one  could  never  have  the  satisfaction  of  thrash- 
ing in  the  open,  the  attitude  of  their  Native  officers  and 
men  bore  ample  witness.  Light-hearted  subalterns — 
whisked  away  from  half-fledged  love  affairs,  or  the  more 
serious  business  of  sport — might  curse  their  luck  with 
blasphemous  vigour ;  older  men  might  grumble  openly  at 
extra  parades,  at  the  strain  of  additional  vigilance  and 
discipline;  but  for  all  that,  the  work  was  done, — 
thoroughly,  and  with  a  will ;  not  within  the  station  only, 
but  out  there  on  the  open  plain,  rolling  in  vast  undula- 
tions to  the  naked  spurs  of  the  Suliman  range,  where  the 


212  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

sun  smote  through  the  canvas  as  if  it  had  been  so  much 
brown  paper,  and  the  stricken  regiment  strove,  by  con- 
stantly shifting  ground,  to  shake  off  the  pursuing  horror 
that  steadily  thinned  its  ranks.  Here  Colonel  Stanham 
Buckley  waked  each  morning  with  the  cold  clutch  of 
fear  at  his  heart ;  fortified  himself  with  incessant '  nips ' 
throughout  the  day;  and  left  the  bulk  of  the  work  to 
a  cheery  little  Adjutant,  untroubled  by  the  sorrowful 
great  gift  of  imagination.  And  here,  as  in  the  station, 
all  officers  were  diligent  in  visits  to  the  hospital ;  hearten- 
ing the  sufferers  by  their  presence,  and  combating,  as  far  as 
might  be,  the  Oriental's  fatalistic  attitude  towards  disease 
and  death.  Perhaps  only  those  who  have  had  close  dealings 
with  the  British  officer  in  time  of  action  or  emergency 
realise,  to  the  full,  the  effective  qualities  hidden  under  a 
careless  or  conventional  exterior: — the  vital  force,  the 
pluck,  endurance,  and  irrepressible  spirit  of  enterprise, 
which — it  has  been  aptly  said — make  him,  at  his  best,  the 
most  romantic  figure  of  our  modern  time. 

And  while  indefatigable  soldiers  fought  the  enemy  in 
camp  and  in  the  Lines,  Dudley  Norton,  C.S.I.,  Deputy 
Commissioner,  and  ruler-in-chief  of  the  station,  fought 
him  no  less  energetically  in  the  bazaar  and  native  city ; 
an  even  more  heart-breaking  task.  For  here  was  no 
disciplined  body  of  men,  but  a  swarm  of  prejudiced  indi- 
viduals, caring  nothing  for  infection,  and  everything  for 
the  sanctity  of  house  and  caste.  Precautions  and  sanitary 
measures  had  to  be  carried  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet ; 
and  they  were  so  carried.  For  Dudley  Norton,  no  novice 
at  Frontier  work,  had  long  since  made  himself  whole- 
somely feared  and  respected  throughout  the  Derajat ; 
while,  among  the  Maliks  of  his  district,  his  hawk-like 
eyes  gleaming  under  heavy  brows  were  accredited  with 
the  power  of  watching  a  man's  thoughts  at  their  birth. 
A  reputation  too  useful  to  be  discouraged! 

Like  all  detached  Frontier  civilians,  he  practically  lived 
at  the  station  mess  ;  except  on  fugitive  occasions,  when  a 
placidly  handsome  woman,  bearing  his  name,  vouchsafed 
him  a  flying  visit  from  home ;  for  no  other  reason — said 
the  evil-minded  —  than  to  establish  a  right-of-way  over 
her  property.  At  these  times  Norton  welcomed,  and 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  213 

entertained  his  wife  with  a  scrupulous  politeness  and 
concern  for  her  physical  well-being  that  was  a  tragedy 
in  itself ;  and  eventually  '  saw  her  off '  at  the  nearest 
railway  station  with  a  sigh  of  relief.  For,  once — in  a 
former  life,  it  seemed — he  had  been  in  love  with  her; 
and  the  ghost  of  a  dead  passion  is  an  ill  companion  at 
bed  and  board.  At  the  present  moment,  he  had  seen 
neither  her  nor  his  only  son  for  more  than  five  years ; 
and  of  the  small  daughter,  whose  coming  had  transfigured 
his  life,  there  remained  only  a  cross  in  Kohat  cemetery, 
and  a  faded  photo  of  the  flagrantly  unnatural  type  that 
prevailed  in  the  late  'seventies.  But  the  man  who  gives 
his  heart  to  the  Indian  Borderland  must  steel  himself 
to  forgo  much  that,  in  the  arrogance  of  youth,  he  has 
deemed  indispensable  to  happiness,  or  even  to  living 
at  all. 

Frontier  service  begets  closer  contact  between  soldier 
and  civilian,  both  in  work  and  play,  than  cantonment  life 
down  country;  most  often  to  the  uprooting  of  prejudice 
on  both  sides ;  and  Norton  was  one  of  the  few  men  in 
the  station  who  had  achieved  comparative  intimacy  with 
Lenox.  Those  formidable  eyes  of  his  had  been  quick  to 
detect  in  the  taciturn  Gunner,  who  had  done  so  much, 
and  had  so  little  to  say  about  it,  a  coming  '  political '  of 
no  mean  quality,  a  man  of  ideas  and  ambitions,  for  whom 
the  great  country  of  his  service  was  something  more  than 
a  vast  playground,  or  shooting-box ;  in  effect,  a  man  after 
his  own  heart. 

Thus,  finding  Lenox  established  at  the  Desmonds, 
Norton  called  upon  them  soon  after  Honor's  arrival. 
He  was  rewarded  by  a  standing  invitation  to  'drop  in' 
any  afternoon,  or  evening  that  he  happened  to  be  free, 
an  invitation  which  Honor  extended  to  most  of  the  men 
who  came  to  bid  her  welcome ;  and  tea  at  the  Desmonds 
— with  iced  coffee  or  pegs  as  alternatives,  and  smoking 
a  matter  of  course — soon  became  a  daily  institution;  a 
respite,  if  only  for  an  hour  or  two,  from  the  monotony  of 
mess,  parade-ground,  and  hospital. 

"Awfully  sporting  of  Mrs  Desmond,"  was  the  verdict 
of  grateful  subalterns,  who  found  these  tea-drinkings  a 
vast  improvement  on  stale  home  papers,  and  half-hearted 


214  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

gambling  at  the  Club.  There  was  always  music.  Honor, 
besides  playing  magnificently,  could  be  safely  relied  upon 
for  impromptu  accompaniments.  The  Chicken,  and  an 
irrepressible  Irishman  of  the  Sikhs,  who  gloried  in  the 
name  of  O'Flanagan,  were  indefatigable  on  the  banjo,  and 
in  the  construction  of  topical  verses  to  vary  the  pro- 
gramme. Hot- weather  audiences  are  not  hypercritical; 
and  in  the  red-hot  circle  of  days  and  nights  the  mildest 
innovation  is  welcome  as  a  sail  on  a  blank  horizon. 

Desmond  himself  was  delighted  with  his  wife's  spon- 
taneous contribution  to  the  good  spirits  of  the  station ; 
and  if  the  two  had  little  quiet  time  together,  they  had 
at  least  a  satisfying  sense  of  comradeship  in  work;  the 
strongest  link  that  can  be  added  to  the  strong  chain  of 
marriage. 

Frank  Olliver,  with  her  big  smile,  and  infectious  gaiety, 
looked  in  most  days,  as  a  matter  of  course ;  till  one  of  the 
two  fever  cases  she  had  managed  to  lay  hands  on  took  a 
serious  turn,  and  an  hour  off  duty  could  only  be  secured 
when  Honor  insisted  on  relieving  guard,  and  sending 
Frank  over  to  play  hostess  in  her  stead. 

There  was  also  little  Mrs  Peters,  the  only  other  wife  in 
the  station ;  a  square,  shapeless  cushion  of  a  woman,  who 
would  rush  in  for  a  breathless  half -hour  to  pour  tales 
of  native  cunning,  and  Eurasian  apathy  into  Desmond's 
sympathetic  ears.  Being  both  plump  and  energetic,  she 
suffered  cruelly  in  the  heat;  mopped  her  face  without 
shame  between  her  sentences;  and,  according  to  Frank 
Olliver,  lived  chiefly  on  lime-squash,  and  a  limitless  ad- 
miration for  her  missionary  husband, — a  large,  ungainly 
man,  with  the  manners  of  a  shy  schoolboy,  and  the  wrapt 
gaze  of  a  seer ;  a  man  who,  in  an  age  of  fanaticism,  would 
have  walked  smiling  to  the  rack.  As  it  was,  he  walked 
with  no  less  equanimity  through  the  pestilential  mazes 
of  the  city  and  bazaar.  For  although  in  this  age  of 
tolerance  run  to  seed,  a  man  is  not  called  upon  to  die 
for  his  beliefs,  he  is  occasionally  called  upon  to  live  for 
them;  which  is  not  necessarily  the  easier  of  the  two. 
But  up  to  his  lights  Henry  Peters  achieved  it.  At  all 
possible  and  impossible  hours,  his  unwieldy  white  um- 
brella, pith  hat,  and  badly -cut  drill  suit  pervaded  the 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  215 

dwellings  of  his  scattered  converts ;  while  his  wife,  torn 
between  pride  in  him  and  mortal  dread  of  infection, 
grieved  in  secret  over  inadequate  meals  snatched  at  odd 
hours ;  and  supplemented  tremulous  prayers  for  his  safety 
with  lumps  of  camphor,  screwed  up  in  paper,  and  slipped 
surreptitiously  into  the  pockets  of  his  coats. 

Once  or  twice  she  dragged  him  in  triumph  to  the 
Desmonds, — a  reluctant  dishevelled  hero, — and  'showed 
him  off'  to  that  little  company  of  well-groomed,  kindly  - 
natured  soldiers,  with  a  naive  simplicity  that  went  to 
Honor's  heart. 

"  Why  is  it  that  some  of  us  have  a  special  licence  to  be 
so  exquisitely  natural  ? "  she  wondered,  as  she  stood 
beside  the  tea-table,  dispensing  iced  coffee,  and  surveying, 
with  satisfaction,  a  room  full  of  tobacco-smoke  and  con- 
tented men.  "  That's  just  how  I  feel  tempted  to  '  show 
off'  Theo,  sometimes.  And  wouldn't  the  dear  man  crush 
me  to  powder  if  I  tried  ! " 

She  glanced  approvingly  at  him  where  he  sat  astride 
on  a  reversed  chair,  in  dusty  polo  kit,  reporting  progress 
of  the  great  '  fly  campaign '  to  Wyndham,  who  had  been 
newly  promoted  to  a  deck-lounge  in  the  drawing-room  at 
tea-time. 

It  was  a  larger  gathering  than  usual ;  and,  in  spite  of 
the  fact  that  for  three  days  the  thermometer  had  recorded 
a  hundred  and  twenty  in  the  shade,  spirits  ran  high.  The 
subalterns — for  whose  exuberant  fooling  Honor  had  a 
very  tender  tolerance — had  'chorussed'  themselves  hoarse 
and  thirsty ;  and  were  receiving  the  reward  of  the  public- 
spirited  out  of  long  misty  tumblers,  that  fizzed  and 
bubbled.  Peters  had  forgotten  his  shyness  in  a  discus- 
sion with  Norton  on  the  vexed  question  of  cholera  infec- 
tion, and  the  probable  futility  of  quarantine ;  while  Mrs 
Peters,  listening  anxiously,  made  inconsequent  darts  into 
the  argument,  to  her  husband's  obvious  discomfiture,  and 
Norton's  equally  obvious  amusement. 

A  group  of  men  near  Honor  were  talking  of  England, 
tormenting  themselves  gratuitously  by  bare  imagination 
of  a  feast.  Captain  Unwin  of  the  Sikhs  was  casually 
unfolding  a  plan  to  elude  superfluous  creditors,  and  spend 
next  summer  '  at  home.'  His  debts  were  phenomenal ; 


216  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

and  it  was  six  years  since  he  had  sighted  the  funnel  of  a 
steamer.  He  expatiated  yearningly  on  prospective  de- 
lights. Cup  Day  at  Ascot ;  a  July  evening  on  the  upper 
reaches  of  the  Thames ;  a  punt  in  a  backwater  ;  a  pipe 
and  a  cushion ;  just  enough  breeze  to  stir  the  willows ; 
and,  with  any  luck,  a  pretty  woman  in  the  bows. 

"Just  a  shade  better  than  a  sandbank  on  the  Indus, 
eh  ?  "  he  wound  up  with  a  chuckle  of  enjoyment.  "  And 
I'll  pull  it  through  this  time  or  perish  in  the  attempt! 
Lord  .  .  .  think  of  jingling  down  Piccadilly  in  a  hansom 
once  again  .  .  ." 

"  To  dinner  at  the  Savoy,"  suggested  a  thick-set  Major 
on  a  note  of  relish.  "  Devilish  good  one  they  gave  me 
there  three  years  ago.  Night  before  I  sailed." 

Sympathetic  murmurs  encouraged  him  to  enlarge  on 
the  cherished  memory ;  but  before  he  had  reached  the 
entree — an  elaborate  item — Honor  was  out  of  hearing ; 
having  crossed  the  room  to  where  Lenox  sat  balancing  a 
coffee-cup  on  one  knee,  watching  the  faces  round  him  with 
keen,  kindly  eyes,  and  taking  little  active  part  in  the 
proceedings.  He  still  wore  his  arm  in  a  sling ;  and  his 
teeth  held  the  inevitable  pipe,  filled  from  a  tin  of  tobacco 
that  Desmond  had  induced  him  to  accept  on  the  night  of 
their  talk.  Only  three  times  in  the  past  week  had  he 
succumbed  to  the  forbidden  mixture.  But  the  glow  of 
satisfaction,  which  those  who  have  never  resisted  unto 
blood,  complacently  couple  with  self  -  conquest,  was 
denied  him.  Restlessness,  lack  of  sleep,  constant  recur- 
rence of  the  concussion  headache, — these  had  been  his 
reward ;  with  the  result  that  a  rising  temperature  had 
forced  him  to  put  his  name  on  the  '  sick-list '  and  take  a 
few  days  off  duty.  But  at  Honor's  approach  his  whole 
face  lit  up.  The  intimacy  of  everyday  life  had  drawn 
them  very  near  to  each  other;  for  Honor  had  all  the 
magnetism  of  a  woman  made  for  tenderness ;  a  magnetism 
few  men  can  resist,  and  few  women  condone. 

"You  look  so  tired,  and  aloof  from  it  all,"  she  said 
gently.  "  I'm  afraid  the  boys'  nonsense  and  noisiness 
worries  your  head." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  It's  good  to  see  them  enjoying  them- 
selves. You're  a  public  benefactor,  Mrs  Desmond." 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  217 

She  laughed,  and  blushed. 

"  Nonsense.  It's  only  so  nice  of  them  to  come,  when 
one  can  do  so  little  to  amuse  them.  Do  have  some  more 
coffee." 

"  Thanks.  It's  capital  stuff.  Dick's  very  late,"  he 
added  anxiously.  "  I'm  wondering  what's  come  to  him." 

He  rose,  and  followed  her  to  the  tea-table,  where  Bobby 
Nixon  saluted  with  his  most  expansive  smile ;  and  an- 
nounced that  O'Flanagan,  reinforced  by  refreshment,  was 
once  more  '  willing  to  oblige.' 

An  assurance  that  the  rest  were  unanimously  willing  to 
listen  brought  the  Irishman  to  his  feet,  banjo  in  hand ;  a 
lank,  clean-shaven  individual,  who  secreted  a  well-spring 
of  humour  beneath  the  tragi-comic  solemnity  of  the  born- 
low  comedian.  He  was  greeted  with  cries  of  "  Fire  away, 
old  Flannel  Jacket ! "  "  Phil  the  Fluter's  Ball ! "  "  An'  give 
ut  in  shtyle ! "  He  gave  it  in  style  accordingly,  and  in  a 
brogue  as  broad  as  his  own  shoulders ;  the  whole  room 
spontaneously  taking  up  the  chorus. 

"  "Wid  the  toot  of  the  flute,  an'  the  twiddle  of  the  fiddle, 

Dancin'  in  the  middle,  like  a  herring  on  a  griddle  ! 
Up  an5  down,  hands  come  round,  cross  into  the  wall — 
Faith,  hadn't  we  the  gaietee  .  .  ." 

But  at  this  point  the  door  opened  to  admit  Max 
Richardson.  He  was  still  in  uniform ;  and  there  was 
that  in  his  face  which  checked  their  hilarity,  and  made 
O'Flanagan  instantly  put  down  his  banjo. 

Honor  went  quickly  towards  him,  holding  out  her 
hand. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  she  asked  in  a  low  tone. 

"  It's  young  Hodson.     He  died  .  .  .  half  an  hour  ago." 

"  Not  cholera  ? " 

Dick  nodded. 

An  inarticulate  murmur  went  round  the  room ;  and  for 
several  seconds  no  one  spoke.  The  first  white  man  down 
seemed  to  bring  the  enemy  within  striking  distance  of 
each  one  of  them. 

Then  Lenox  came  forward.  "You'll  excuse  us,  Mrs 
Desmond  ? "  he  said  quietly.  And  the  two  men  went 
out,  leaving  a  strangely  silent  room  behind  them. 


218  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

They  passed  through  the  hall  into  the  dining -room 
before  Lenox  took  the  pipe  from  his  lips,  and  spoke. 

"  Bad  business,"  he  remarked  laconically.  "  And,  God 
forgive  me,  when  he  'went  sick'  this  morning  I  half 
thought  he  was  malingering.  Poor  chap  .  .  .  he's  quit 
of  the  Frontier  sooner  than  he  thought  for,  without  any 
help  from  me.  You  were  with  him,  I  suppose,  ...  at 
the  last?" 

"  Yes ;  for  the  best  part  of  two  hours,"  Dick  answered, 
absently  helping  himself  to  a  cheroot.  "  Never  saw  a 
man  take  it  harder.  No  getting  him  to  make  a  fight  for 
it.  Kept  on  begging  me  to  tell  him  if  this  show  was  a 
fellow's  only  chance ;  and  ...  I  couldn't." 

Lenox  looked  intently  at  his  friend. 

"  That  so  ? " 

The  other  nodded ;  and  there  was  a  short  silence. 
Richardson  took  up  a  photograph  of  old  Sir  John  Mere- 
dith, and  examined  it  with  critical  interest. 

"You  might  have  sent  for  Peters,"  Lenox  said  at 
length. 

"No  earthly  use.  He  swore  like  a  trooper  when  I 
suggested  it ;  and  I  can't  blame  him.  Professional  plati- 
tudes are  not  the  style  of  physic  to  ease  a  man  when  he's 
suffering  hell's  own  torments  in  his  mind  and  body."  He 
set  down  the  picture  abruptly,  and  swung  round  on  his 
heel.  "  I'll  be  going  on  now,  for  a  tub,  and  a  change  of 
clothing.  Idiotic  of  me,  no  doubt ;  but  I  feel  a  bit  off 
colour  after  all  that.  How  about  the  funeral  ?  To- 
night?" 

"No.  First  thing  to-morrow.  I'll  arrange  it  with 
Peters  before  he  leaves ;  and  get  Courtenay  to  let  me  off 
the  sick-list,  if  I  can."  Then  grasping  the  younger  man's 
shoulder  with  rough  kindliness,  he  added :  "  Good  old 
Dick.  Pull  yourself  together,  and  come  back  here  for 
dinner.  It  may  be  my  turn  ...  or  yours,  before  we're 
through.  And  if  it  is  ...  we  don't  go  out  like  snuffed 
candles,  remember.  You  may  take  my  word  for  it." 

"  Hope  to  God  you're  right,"  the  other  answered  between 
his  teeth,  and  was  gone. 

Next  morning,  in  a  flaming  dawn,  all  that  remained  of 


THE   TENTS    OF   ISHMAEL.  219 

Tom  Hodson  was  consigned,  with  military  honours,  to  the 
dust  of  that  Frontier  he  had  grown  to  hate,  because  it 
demands  so  much  of  a  man,  and  offers  so  little  in  return ; 
and  every  house  within  earshot  of  the  cemetery  vibrated 
to  the  three  parting  volleys  fired  over  the  open  grave. 

Lenox  was  present  at  the  service;  and  at  the  gun 
practice  that  followed  shortly  after  it.  Thirty  grains  of 
phenacetin  and  several  forbidden  pipes,  had  ensured  him 
six  hours'  sleep,  and  a  cooler  skin ;  with  the  result  that  he 
had  successfully  induced  an  amused  medical  officer  to 
report  him  '  fit  for  duty.'  But  Nature  is  relentless ;  and 
Lenox,  driving  back  from  '  orderly  room '  through  a  white- 
hot  glare,  and  a  haze  of  pungent  dust,  found  himself 
speculating  vaguely — as  though  the  question  concerned 
some  unknown  entity  in  another  world — how  he  was 
going  to  drag  a  protesting  body  and  brain  through  the 
rest  of  the  day's  work. 

"  Got  to  be  done  somehow,  though.  That's  flat,"  was 
his  final  verdict  as  he  passed  into  the  twilight  of  the  hall. 

Every  door  in  the  house  was  shut  against  the  furnace 
without ;  had  been  shut  since  seven  of  the  morning ;  and 
would  so  remain  till  after  sunset.  Yet,  the  mercury 
hovered  between  ninety  -  seven  and  a  hundred  all  day, 
and  most  of  the  night.  In  India  the  thermometer  super- 
sedes the  barometer ;  and  in  the  hot  weather  it  becomes 
an  obsession.  There  is  always  a  mild  satisfaction  in 
knowing  exactly  what  one  has  endured. 

Desmond  was  not  yet  back,  and  the  study  was  empty ; 
a  friendly-looking  room,  its  simple  haphazard  furniture 
unified  by  the  rich  colour  harmonies  of  Indian  carpets  and 
curtains ;  while  a  liberal  supply  of  books,  unusual  for  the 
country,  proclaimed  it  the  room  of  a  soldier  who  found 
time  for  study  and  thought. 

Too  weary  to  get  out  of  uniform,  Lenox  laid  aside  his 
helmet  and  accoutrements ;  shouted  to  the  punkah  coolie, 
sleeping  in  the  verandah,  chin  on  chest ;  sorted  his  geo- 
graphical papers,  and  sat  down  to  the  table.  Then  he 
took  out  his  pipe,  eyed  it  thoughtfully,  and  flung  it  aside 
with  a  curse.  Each  relapse  resulted  in  a  renewed  access 
of  self-distrust;  and  this  morning  the  cloud  upon  his 
spirit  fell  heavier  than  ever,  because  he  foresaw  that  if  the 


220  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

work  ahead  of  him  were  to  be  pulled  through,  in  the  teeth  of 
the  grinding  headaches  consequent  on  his  fall,  last  night's 
programme  must  be  repeated,  not  once,  but  many  times. 
And  at  that  rate,  what  was  to  be  the  end  of  it  ?  The 
degradation  of  submitting  to  the  drug  itself  ?  A  thousand 
times,  no.  The  soldier  in  him  sprang  to  arms  at  the  mere 
suggestion.  Like  all  men  capable  of  greatness,  he  be- 
lieved, not  in  the  mastery  of  circumstance,  but  in  the 
mastery  of  will.  Yet,  unhappily,  the  will,  like  all  spiritual 
forces,  is  ignominiously  dependent  on  bodily  conditions. 
Pain,  sheer  pitiless  pain,  will  have  its  way  with  the  bravest 
of  us. 

The  man  was  ill  without  realising  it.  The  nerves  in 
his  head  throbbed  to  a  devil's  hornpipe  of  their  own,  and 
mental  effort  was  beyond  him.  In  vain  he  contracted  his 
heavy  brows,  and  tried  to  gather  up  the  threads  of  the 
chapter  he  had  been  working  at.  Black  depression  over- 
powered him,  obliterating  rational  thought.  The  morn- 
ing's service  haunted  him  with  unnatural  persistence,  and 
the  half-hour  he  had  spent  with  Dick  in  the  dead  boy's 
bungalow,  looking  through  his  papers — a  chaos  of  bills, 
mostly  unpaid ;  racing  notes ;  old'  programmes ;  and  half 
a  dozen  envelopes  addressed  in  a  girl's  unformed  hand. 
On  the  open  blotter,  an  unfinished  letter  to  a  friend  in 
Simla  had  announced  his  hope  of  a  speedy  exchange  down 
country;  his  determination  not  to  spend  another  hot 
weather  '  on  this  God-forsaken  Frontier  .  .  . ' 

"  Poor  misguided  chap,"  Lenox  mused,  not  without  a 
tinge  of  his  old  contempt.  "  Now  if  only  /  could  have 
gone  in  his  place,  it  would  have  simplified  matters  all 
round." 

But  he  thrust  away  the  thought  as  morbid  and  cowardly; 
and  by  way  of  curative  drew  Quita's  last  letter  out  of  his 
breast-pocket.  The  fact  of  her  love  for  him  still  remained 
a  miracle  incompletely  realised ;  and  she  had  been  right 
in  her  belief  that  he  had  yet  to  discover  its  intensity  and 
depth. 

The  great  noontide  silence  had  already  fallen  upon 
house  and  compound.  Outside,  brazen  earth  and  brazen 
sky  glared  at  one  another  with  malignant  intensity.  Two 
bullocks  lounged  under  the  bananas  by  the  mill  wheel 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  221 

flicking  lazy  tails  when  the  flies  presumed  too  shamelessly 
upon  their  apathy ;  and  crows,  with  beaks  agape,  hopped 
resignedly  from  one  burning  patch  of  shade  to  another. 
Among  the  verandah  roof  -  beams,  three  grey  squirrels 
argued,  with  subdued  chitterings,  over  a  kipper's  head 
stolen  from  a  breakfast  plate ;  and  at  intervals  a  piteous 
wailing  came  from  the  servants'  quarters,  where,  as  all 
knew,  Nizam  Din,  kitmutgar,  was  beating  his  pretty  wife, 
Miriam  Bibi,  for  the  third  time  that  week,  because  she 
had  grown  careless  in  the  matter  of  covering  her  face, 
since  the  coming  of  Zyarulla,  whose  arrogant  magnificence 
had  created  a  flutter  in  more  than  one  respectable 
household. 

But  Quita's  letter,  written  in  her  '  garden '  on  a  boulder, 
before  breakfast,  had  transported  Lenox  many  hundred 
miles  away  from  it  all.  The  chittering  of  squirrels,  and 
the  cries  of  poor  Miriam  Bibi  entered  his  ears ;  but  the 
spirit  of  him  was  back  among  the  mountains ;  the  scent  of 
warm  pine-needles  was  in  his  nostrils,  the  spell  of  his 
wife's  face  and  voice  upon  his  heart. 

A  sudden  sense  of  suffocation  dispelled  the  dream.  He 
found  himself  breathless,  in  a  bath  of  perspiration.  The 
punkah  had  stopped  dead.  And  one  must  have  endured 
this  trifling  inconvenience  to  gauge  the  significance  of 
those  five  words. 

Lenox  straightened  himself  with  an  oath.  "  Kencho?- 
.  .  .  you  son  of  a  jackal ! "  he  thundered ;  at  the  same 
time  jerking  the  punkah  frill,  an  effective  means  of  re- 
animating the  long-suffering  punkah  coolie,  who  has  a 
trick  of  twisting  the  rope  round  his  arm,  that  he  may 
jerk  it  the  more  easily  in  his  dreams. 

But  Lenox's  vigorous  pull  merely  brought  a  great 
length  of  rope  through  the  wall ;  and  his  command  was 
answered  by  the  groans  of  a  man  in  torment.  Springing 
up,  he  wrenched  open  the  glass  door ;  and  a  blast  as  from 
a  furnace  struck  him  across  the  face.  The  coolie,  a 
brown,  distorted  mass,  writhed  upon  the  hot  stones  in 
mortal  agony.  At  the  Sahib's  approach,  he  struggled  to 
his  knees  with  a  rush  of  incoherent  detail ;  while  Lenox 
shouted  for  Zyarulla,  and  the  dogcart ;  flung  a  word  of 

1  Pull. 


222  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

encouragement  to  the  stricken  man,  and  went  in  again 
for  his  helmet. 

Till  the  trap  appeared  Lenox  paced  the  verandah ;  the 
punkah  coolie  groaned ;  and  Zyarulla  protested  as  openly 
as  he  dared  against  his  Sahib  being  put  to  personal  in- 
convenience for  a  base-born  —  mere  dust  of  the  earth. 
None  the  less,  at  the  Sahib's  order  he  gingerly  helped  the 
dust  of  the  earth  into  the  trap,  where  Lenox  put  his  one 
available  arm  round  the  writhing  body ;  and  the  sais,  who 
showed  small  relish  for  the  situation,  was  ordered  to  get 
up  and  drive  from  behind.  The  which  he  did ;  leaning 
over  the  back  seat,  and  keeping  ostentatiously  clear  of 
the  misbegotten  son  of  a  pig  who  had  broken  his  midday 
sleep. 

In  this  fashion  they  journeyed,  awkwardly  enough,  to 
the  temporary  cholera  hospital;  a  handful  of  tents  and 
grass  huts  on  the  outskirts  of  the  station.  Betwixt  the 
clutches  of  cramp,  and  the  abject  humility  of  his  kind, 
the  coolie  slithered  from  the  seat  on  to  the  mat;  and 
Lenox  had  some  ado  to  prevent  his  falling  headlong  from 
the  cart.  But  in  due  time  he  was  handed  over  safely 
to  a  suave,  coffee-coloured  hospital  assistant,  and  carried 
shrieking  into  a  tent  crammed  with  sights  unfit  to  be  told; 
whence  he  emerged,  two  hours  later,  without  protest  of 
voice  or  limb,  to  swell  the  intermittent  stream  of  fellow- 
corpses  that  flowed  from  the  hospital  to  the  burning  ghats 
or  the  Mahommedal  burial-ground  outside  the  station. 

When  Lenox  staggered  back  into  the  hall,  dizzy  with 
headache,  and  half-blinded  with  glare,  he  was  met  by 
Desmond,  who,  noticing  a  slight  lurch  as  he  entered,  took 
hold  of  his  arm. 

"  Zyarulla  told  me  what  happened,"  he  said,  a  great 
gentleness  in  his  voice.  "Come  on  to  your  room,  old 
man.  Take  a  rousing  dose  of  phenacetin,  and  lie  down 
till  tiffin.  I'll  bring  you  a  lime-squash." 

"Thanks.  You  are  a  damned  good  sort,  Desmond. 
The  sun's  touched  me  up,  I  fancy.  I  shall  be  all  right 
in  a  couple  of  hours." 

But  before  two  hours  were  out,  Desmond's  orderly  was 
speeding  through  the  dust  to  the  Doctor  Sahib's  house ; 
and  Desmond  himself  had  gone  hurriedly  to  his  wife's 


THE   TENTS    OF    ISHMAEL.  223 

room,  where  she  too  was  lying  down  after  her  morning's 
duties.  She  rose  at  his  coming,  holding  out  both  hands. 
For  she  read  disaster  in  his  eyes. 

"  Darling,  what  has  gone  wrong  ? " 

"  It's  Lenox.  He's  down  with  it.  Not  severe  as  yet. 
But  there's  no  mistaking  what  it  is." 

Her  faint  colour — it  had  grown  perceptibly  fainter  in 
the  past  week — left  her  face. 

"  Oh,  his  poor  wife !    We  must  send  a  wire  at  once." 

"I've  sent  one  already,  by  the  orderly  who  went  for 
Courtenay.  Told  her  she  should  have  news  every  day, 
for  the  present." 

"  Oh,  bless  you,  Theo  !     You  think  of  everything  ! " 

"Steady,  Honor,  steady,"  he  rebuked  her  gently. 
"  We've  got  to  do  a  fair  share  of  thinking  between  us 
just  now.  Paul  can  safely  stay  on  if  one  isolates  that 
side  of  the  house ;  and  Zyarulla  and  I  can  do  everything 
for  Lenox  between  us.  As  for  you,  John  must  give  you 
a  bed  till  we're  through." 

"  But,  Theo  .  .  ." 

"  Be  quiet !  "  he  broke  in  almost  roughly ;  adding  on  a 
changed  note  :  "  For  once  in  a  way,  my  dearest,  you  will 
obey  orders  without  question  —  or  go  altogether.  Now 
give  me  the  chlorodyne,  and  let  me  get  back  to  poor 
Lenox.  Seems  brutal  to  give  him  any  form  of  opium 
after  all  he's  been  through.  Hullo,  there's  Eichardson 
shouting  outside.  He'll  be  terribly  cut  up  when  he 
knows." 

It  transpired  that  Eichardson  had  come  over,  post- 
haste, to  report  three  cases  among  his  men ;  and  at  sun- 
down the  little  mountain  battery,  with  its  three  subal- 
terns and  full  camp  equipment,  marched  out  into  the 
open  desert,  scornfully  overlooked  by  that  Pisgah  height 
of  the  Frontier,  the  Takti  Suliman,  whose  square-cut 
crags  were  printed  in  sharp  outline  upon  a  stainless  sky. 


224  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 


CHAPTEK  XX. 

"Passion  has  but  one  cry,  one  only  : — Oh  to  touch  thee,  my  beloved  !  " 

— OLIVE  SCHHBINEB. 

ASIATIC  cholera  is  as  capricious  as  a  woman :  capricious 
both  as  to  her  choice  of  victims,  and  as  to  the  grisly 
fashion  of  her  wooing.  In  one  mood  she  will  kill  at  a 
stroke,  like  a  poisoned  arrow;  in  another  she  will  play 
with  a  tortured  body  as  a  cat  plays  with  a  mouse.  And 
it  was  thus  that  she  dealt  with  Eldred  Lenox. 

For  two  days  and  nights  Desmond  and  the  Pathan 
wrestled  against  the  evil  thing,  and  against  that  deadly 
apathy  as  to  the  result,  which  kills  more  surely  than  the 
disease  itself.  And  since  the  regiment  claimed  many 
hours  of  the  Englishman's  day,  the  brunt  of  the  nursing 
devolved  upon  Zyarulla,  who  scorned  suggestions  of  sleep, 
and  appeared  to  live  on  pellets  of  opium,  and  a  hookah, 
which  inhabited  the  verandah  outside  his  master's  room. 

There  were  moments  when  they  were  tempted  to  de- 
spair. But  they  fought  on  doggedly,  and  without  com- 
ment: and  as  the  second  night  wore  towards  morning, 
they  knew  that  they  had  conquered.  The  gong  at  the 
police  station  down  the  road  had  just  clanged  three  times. 
Every  door  and  window-slit  stood  open  at  their  widest ; 
and  through  them  entered  in  the  familiar,  unforgettable 
smell  of  the  Indian  Empire  under  her  yearly  baptism  of 
fire ;  a  smell  of  dust,  and  baked  brick  work,  and  stale 
native  tobacco.  A  hand-lamp  on  the  mantelpiece  diffused 
a  yellow  twilight  through  the  room ;  a  twilight  flavoured 
with  kerosine  :  and  across  the  twilight  the  shadow  of  the 
punkah  flitted,  like  a  whispering  ghost. 

Zyarulla,  crouching  at  the  bedside,  slid  a  cautious 
knotted  hand  between  the  buttons  of  the  sleeping-coat, 
and  laid  it  lightly  on  his  master's  heart.  The  flutter 
within  was  feeble,  but  regular ;  though  the  face,  grey  and 
shrunken  almost  past  recognition,  still  bore  the  impress 
of  death. 

"God  is  great,"  the  Pathan  muttered  into  his  beard. 
"The  strength  of  the  Heaven-born  is  as  that  of  mine 
own  hills;  and  my  Sahib  will  live.  It  is  enough." 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  225 

On  the  farther  side  of  the  bed,  Desmond,  in  gauze  vest, 
and  belted  trousers,  mopped  his  forehead,  and  drew  a  long 
breath.  Then,  measuring  out  a  tablespoonful  of  raw-meat 
soup,  he  slipped  a  hand  under  the  dark  head  on  the 
pillow. 

"  Lenox,  dear  chap,  drink  this,  will  you  ? "  he  said, 
speaking  as  persuasively  as  a  mother  to  a  child. 

Lenox  obeyed  automatically.  For  a  mere  instant  his 
lids  lifted,  and  recognition  gleamed  in  the  eyes  that 
seemed  to  have  retreated  half-way  into  his  head.  Then, 
with  an  incoherent  murmur,  he  settled  himself  into  a 
more  natural  attitude  of  rest ;  and  the  two  men  watching 
him  intently,  exchanged  a  nod  of  satisfaction. 

The  Pathan,  sitting  back  on  his  heels,  fumbled  at  his 
belt  for  a  pellet  of  opium. 

"  He  will  sleep  now,  Huzoor,  like  a  day-old  babe ;  and 
the  Presence  will  sleep  also.  Since  yesterday  at  this 
time  your  Honour  hath  taken  no  rest ;  and  there  be  three 
hours  yet  to  parade-time." 

"Good.  We  have  fought  a  tough  fight,  thou  and  I, 
and  be  sure  Lenox  Sahib  will  know  of  thy  share  in  it. 
Wake  me  at  half-past  five." 

"  Huzoor." 

Zyarulla  salaamed  profoundly  ;  and  Desmond,  dropping 
with  fatigue,  flung  himself,  even  as  he  was,  on  to  a  chair- 
bed  in  the  adjoining  dressing-room,  and  slept  the  dream- 
less sleep  of  exhaustion. 

Before  six  he  was  over  at  Meredith's  bungalow,  sitting 
on  the  edge  of  his  wife's  bed,  drinking  tea  with  an  egg  in 
it, — her  own  prescription, — and  enjoying  her  delight  at 
his  news. 

"  Good  enough,  isn't  it  ? "  he  concluded  heartily.  "  I'll 
take  the  telegraph  office  on  my  way  back." 

"  And  I'll  come  over  to  breakfast,  bag  and  baggage  ! " 

"  Capital.     If  John  agrees." 

"Of  course  he  will.  He's  not  such  a  fidget  as  you 
are!" 

"  Glad  to  hear  it ;  if  it  means  getting  you  back ;  and 
both  rooms  shall  be  disinfected  to-day.  Lord,  but  it's  a 
weight  off  my  mind!" 

p 


226  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

And  he  cantered  down  to  the  Lines  in  such  a  mood  of 
exaltation  as  they  know  who  have  been  privileged  to  fight 
for  a  human  life,  and  win. 

Honor  got  her  own  way,  as  she  always  did  ;  and  half- 
past  nine  found  her  back  at  her  deserted  post  behind  the 
teapot.  Desmond  fancied  that  she  looked  paler  than 
usual;  that  her  cheerfulness  was  veiled  by  a  shadow  of 
constraint.  But  as  Paul  was  present,  enjoying  his  first 
normal  breakfast,  he  contented  himself  with  scrutinising 
her,  when  her  attention  seemed  to  be  taken  up  elsewhere. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  Honor  knew  precisely  how  often  he 
looked  at  her ;  and,  womanlike,  hugged  his  solicitude  to 
her  heart.  For  there  had  been  moments,  in  the  past  two 
days,  when  the  traitorous  thought  would  obtrude  itself 
that  perhaps  the  child  needed  her  most  after  all. 

Directly  the  meal  was  over,  she  rose,  murmuring  that 
she  had  '  things  to  see  to,'  and  went  out,  leaving  the  men 
with  their  cigars.  But  instead  of  going  to  the  store  cup- 
board, where  the  old  Khansamah  awaited  her,  armed  with 
his  daily  hissab,1  she  slipped  into  the  drawing-room,  sat 
down  at  her  bureau,  and  leaned  her  head  on  her  hand ; 
honestly  hoping  that  Theo  might  leave  the  house  without 
coming  to  her.  For  all  that,  the  sound  of  his  elastic  step 
brought  a  light  into  her  eyes.  She  did  not  rise,  or  look 
round ;  and  he  came  and  stood  beside  her. 

"  Not  quite  yourself  this  morning,  old  lady  ? "  he  asked. 
"  Anything  really  wrong  ?  Fever  ?  Headache  ? " 

She  caught  the  note  of  anxiety,  and  with  a  quick  turn 
of  her  head  kissed  the  fingers  resting  on  her  shoulder. 

"No,  darling;  neither.  Don't  worry  yourself.  I'm 
perfectly  well." 

"Sure?" 

"  Quite  sure." 

"  Good."  And  he  departed,  whistling  softly  ;  clear  sign 
that  all  was  well  with  his  world. 

But  twenty  minutes  later  when  Paul  came  in  to  look 
for  a  strayed  pipe,  he  found  Honor,  quite  oblivious  of 
'things,'  crying  quietly  behind  her  hands.  He  retreated 
hastily  ;  but  she  heard  him  and  looked  up. 

"  Don't  go,  Paul.     I  want  you." 

1  Account. 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  227 

No  three  words  in  the  language  could  have  pierced  him 
with  so  keen  a  thrust  of  happiness. 

"  Do  you  mean  .  .  .  can  I  help  you  ? "  he  asked  eagerly. 
"  I  felt  sure  something  was  wrong." 

"Did  you?  I'm  a  bad  actress!  But  .  .  it's  about 
Baby, — the  other  Paul,"  she  added,  smiling  through  wet 
lashes.  "  I  have  just  had  a  letter  from  Mrs  Rivers  that 
makes  me  want  to  pack  my  boxes  and  go  straight  back  to 
Dalhousie." 

"  And  shall  you  ?     Is  it  serious  enough  for  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  how  can  one  tell  ? "  she  cried  desperately,  her  voice 
breaking  on  the  words.  "  It  mightn't  seem  serious  to  you. 
He  has  fever,  and  a  touch  of  dysentery,  and  terrible  fits 
of  crying  with  his  double  teeth.  Mrs  Eivers  seems 
anxious ;  and  of  course  one  thinks  ...  of  convulsions. 
It  all  sounds  rather  a  molehill,  doesn't  it,  after  the  horrors 
we  have  been  living  in  here  ?  And  perhaps  only  a 
mother  would  make  a  mountain  out  of  it.  But  I  think 
mothers  must  have  God's  leave  to  be  foolish  .  .  .  some- 
times ! " 

Fresh  tears  welled  up,  and  she  hid  her  face  again. 
Paul  could  only  wait  beside  her  tongue-tied,  half-sitting 
on  the  edge  of  the  writing-table,  wondering  what  dear, 
unfathomable  impulse  had  led  her  to  admit  him  to  the 
sanctuary  of  her  sorrow ;  realising,  so  far  as  a  masculine 
brain  can  realise,  something  of  the  struggle  involved  in 
woman's  twofold  responsibility — to  the  man,  and  to  the 
gift  of  the  man. 

It  is  the  eternally  old,  eternally  new  tragedy  of  Anglo- 
Indian  marriage;  none  the  less  poignant  because  it  is 
repeated  ad  infinitum.  Love  him  as  she  may,  it  costs 
more  for  a  wife,  and  still  more  for  a  mother,  to  stand 
loyally  by  her  husband  in  India  than  the  sheltered  women 
of  England  can  conceive.  For  to  read  of  such  contin- 
gencies in  print,  is  by  no  means  the  same  thing  as 
having  one's  heart  of  flesh  pierced  by  the  sword  of 
division. 

"Has  Theo  heard  all  this?"  Paul  hazarded  gently. 
"He  went  off  in  such  good  spirits." 

She  dried  her  eyes,  and  looked  up. 

"  I  couldn't  spoil  it  all  by  telling  him.     But  I  thought 


228  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

it  might  seem  less  of  a  nightmare,  if  I  could  tell  some 
one  .  .  .  and  .  .  ." 

"  And  I  happened  to  come  handy  ? "  he  suggested  with 
a  rather  pathetic  smile. 

"  Oh,  Paul,  how  horrid !  It  wasn't  that,"  she  contra- 
dicted him  hotly.  "It  was  because  you  are  .  .  you, 
my  boy's  godfather,  and  my  very  dear  friend.  Do  you 
suppose  I  would  have  shown  my  mother -foolishness  to 
any  other  man  of  my  acquaintance  ? " 

"  No.  I  don't  suppose  it,"  he  answered,  looking  steadily 
down  into  the  anxious  beauty  of  her  face.  "  Forgive  my 
much  less  pardonable  foolishness,  and  let  me  help  you,  if 
that's  possible.  Are  you  really  thinking  of  going  ? " 

"N  .  .  no.  I  don't  believe  I  am.  Only  .  .  for  one 
mad  moment,  I  felt  as  if  nothing  could  hold  me  back. 
But  children  are  such  elastic  creatures ;  and  if  I  arrived  to 
find  him  quite  frisky  and  well,  think  how  ashamed  I  should 
feel  at  having  deserted  Theo,  and  put  him  to  so  much 
expense  for  nothing.  But  I  do  want  to  wire  at  once; 
though  I  hardly  like  sending  Theo's  orderly  .  .  ." 

"  Let  me  write  it  for  you,  and  send  my  man,"  he  volun- 
teered, catching  gratefully  at  something  definite  to  be 
done :  and  taking  up  a  form  he  prepared  to  write  at  her 
dictation. 

"  Eeply  prepaid,  please ;  and  addressed  to  Frank.  I 
shall  go  straight  over  there,  and  stay  till  I  get  the  answer. 
I  could  never  keep  it  up  with  Theo  all  day.  You  saw 
how  badly  I  did  it  at  breakfast! — What's  that?  Some 
one  come?" 

Sounds  of  arrival  were  followed  by  an  unmistakable 
Irish  voice  in  the  hall ;  and  Honor  hurriedly  dabbed  her 
eyes. 

"Dear  Frank,  how  clever  of  her!  She  can  drive  me 
over." 

A  minute  later  she  was  in  the  room ;  an  angular  work- 
manlike figure,  in  sun  helmet,  and  the  unvarying  coat  and 
skirt.  It  was  her  one  idea  of  a  dress, — drill  in  summer, 
tweed  in  winter.  "  An'  be  all  that's  sensible,  what  more 
should  an  ugly  woman  want  ? "  had  been  her  challenge  to 
a  misguided  friend,  who  had  suggested  higher  aspirations. 
"  Tis  no  manner  o'  use  to  dress  up  a  collection  of  limbs 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  229 

and  features  without  symmetry;  an'  it  saves  no  end  of 
mental  wear  and  tear,  to  say  nothing  of  rupees,  that's 
badly  wanted  for  polo  ponies." 

She  entered  talking ;  and  shook  hands  talking  still. 

"  The  top  o'  the  morning  to  you  both !  'Tis  an  unholy 
hour  for  a  visit.  But  I'm  after  the  loan  of  a  feeding- 
cup,  knowing  you've  two.  That  murdering  villain  of  a 
messalchi l  broke  me  only  one  this  morning ;  an'  I'm  afraid 
I  used  '  language '  when  I  saw  the  corpse,  besides  threat- 
ening to  cut  the  price  of  a  new  one  out  of  his  pay  ! 
'  Memsahib  Jce  kushi,' z  he  answers,  salaaming  like  a  sainted 
martyr,  and  taking  the  wind  clean  out  o'  me  sails.  But 
I'll  wash  yours  meself ;  so  you  needn't  fear  to  lend  it." 
Then,  becoming  aware  of  Honor's  red  eyelids,  she  broke 
off  short.  "  Why,  Honor,  me  dear,  it's  the  born  fool  I  am 
to  be  chattering  like  a  parrot  when  you're  in  trouble,  by 
the  looks  of  it."  A  glance  from  one  to  the  other  revealed 
the  telegram  in  Paul's  hand.  "  Great  goodness,  it's  never 
the  child,  is  it  ? "  she  asked  with  a  swift  change  of  tone. 

"  Yes.  Honor  has  had  disturbing  news,"  he  answered 
for  her.  "  She'll  tell  you  about  it  while  I  send  off  this 
wire." 

Honor,  who  had  risen,  sank  into  her  chair  again  as  he 
left  the  room. 

"  Read  that,  dear,"  she  said  simply :  and  while  Frank 
Olliver  read,  a  strange  softness  stole  over  her  face, 
blanched  and  lined  by  many  Frontier  hot  weathers.  Out- 
siders, who  wondered  how  any  man  had  ever  come  to  fall 
in  love  with  her,  might  have  wondered  less  had  they 
chanced  to  see  her  then.  On  reaching  the  signature,  she 
awkwardly  patted  Honor's  shoulder. 

"  'Tis  just  one  o'  the  bad  minutes  there's  no  evading, 
me  darlmt.  The  price  you've  to  pay  for  the  high 
privilege  of  carrying  on  the  race." 

"  It  seems  a  big  price  sometimes  .  .  in  India,"  Honor 
answered,  not  quite  steadily.  "  And  it's  your  one  bit  of 
compensation,  Frank,  that  you're  spared  the  wrench  of 
having  to  live  with  your  heart  in  two  places  at  once." 

At  that  Frank  bit  her  lip,  and  stinging  tears  —  an 
unusual  phenomenon — blinded  her  eyes.  But  she  was 

1  Scullery  man.  2  As  Memsahib  pleases. 


230  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

overstrung  by  a  week  of  hard  nursing ;  and  some  child- 
less women  never  lose  the  tragic  sense  of  incompleteness, 
the  unacknowledged  ache  of  empty  arms. 

"  Spared  ?  Ah,  me  dear,  you  ought  to  know  me  better 
by  now,"  she  protested  reproachfully.  "  I've  no  use  at  all 
for  cheap  comforts  o'  that  kind.  What's  the  sharpest 
pangs,  after  all,  balanced  against  .  .  .  the  other  thing? 
Lighter  than  vanity  itself;  an'  you  know  it.  None 
better.  But  there  .  .  .  I'm  clean  daft  to  be  talking  so  at 
this  stage  o'  the  proceedings.  It's  the  happy  woman  I 
am,  sure  enough.  Geoff  and  I  are  rare  good  friends. 
Always  have  been.  But  don't  you  talk  to  me  again  about 
being  spared.  It's  one  more  than  I  can  stand ;  an'  that's 
the  truth." 

Honor  took  possession  of  the  hand  that  patted  her 
shoulder, — a  square  hand,  rough  with  much  riding  and 
exposure, — and  laid  it  against  her  cheek. 

"  Bless  you,  Frank,"  she  said  softly.  "  You  make  me 
feel  quite  ashamed  of  myself.  Come  and  get  the  feeding- 
cup  ;  and  take  me  home  with  you.  I've  wired  to  Mrs 
Rivers ;  and  the  answer  will  come  to  you.  I  couldn't 
tell  Theo,  till  .  .  I  must." 

Frank's  smile  had  the  effect  of  sunshine  striking 
through  a  shower. 

"  Saints  alive,  how  you  spoil  the  dear  man !  But  in- 
deed an'  I  wonder  who  could  help  it?  Not  meself, 
I'll  swear." 

Desmond  came  in  very  late  for  tiffin.  At  Paul's 
announcement  that  Honor  had  gone  to  Mrs  Olliver's  till 
tea-time,  he  raised  his  eyebrows  without  question  or  com- 
ment: then,  going  over  to  the  mantelpiece,  stood  con- 
templating a  recent  photo  of  her  and  the  child. 

"  Did  you  happen  to  notice  her  at  breakfast  ? "  he  asked 
abruptly,  his  eyes  on  the  picture.  "  She  didn't  seem  to  me 
quite  up  to  the  mark.  And  of  course  .  .  bringing  her 
into  this  .  .  .  one  feels  responsible  .  .  ." 

There  was  more  in  the  tone  than  in  the  broken  sen- 
tence; and  Wyndham,  coming  up  behind  him,  grasped 
his  shoulders. 

"  My  dear  Theo,"  he  said  soothingly,  "  I  can't  let  you 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  231 

be  hag-ridden  by  your  favourite  nightmare !  Honor  is 
woman  enough  to  be  responsible  for  her  own  actions. 
Besides,  she  is  perfectly  well.  I  had  a  talk  with  her 
before  she  went.  As  to  her  coming  down  into  this,  you 
couldn't  have  held  her  back.  She  has  every  right  to  stand 
by  you,  if  she  chooses ;  and  you  must  know,  even  better 
than  I  do,  that  in  the  good  future  ahead  of  you,  wherever 
you  may  be,  unless  it's  active  service,  Honor  will  be  there 
too,  .  .  as  sure  as  my  name's  Wyndham." 

This  was  quite  a  long  speech  for  Paul ;  one  that  it  cost 
him  an  effort  to  make ;  and  Desmond,  fully  realising  the 
fact,  turned  upon  his  friend  with  impulsive  warmth. 

"  True  for  you,  Paul,  old  man !  She's  a  Meredith. 
That  about  covers  everything.  What  an  amazing  talent 
you  have  for  casting  out  devils ! — Now,  let's  be  common- 
sensible,  and  have  some  food.  Kohi  hai  !  Tiffin  lao."  * 

And  as  if  the  walls  had  ears,  the  meal  made  its  appear- 
ance with  that  silent  celerity  which  the  retired  Anglo- 
Indian — who  has  sworn  at  native  servants  for  thirty 
years — misses  so  keenly,  when  he  is  relegated  to  the 
cumbersome  ministrations  of  the  British  house-parlour- 
maid of  Ealing. 

"  By  the  way,"  Desmond  remarked,  as  he  dissected  a 
fowl,  cooked — by  the  mercy  of  the  gods — in  that  elusive 
interval  between  toughness  and  putrescence,  the  pursuit 
of  which  gives  to  hot-weather  housekeeping  an  excite- 
ment peculiarly  its  own,  "there's  bad  news  from  the 
Infantry  camp  this  morning.  Poor  old  Buckley.  A 
cramp  seizure  at  midnight.  Went  out  in  three  hours ; 
and  was  buried  at  dawn.  Mackay  showed  me  a  note 
from  Dr  Lowndes  saying  he  believed  it  was  one  of  those 
odd  freaks  of  disease,  a  spurious  case.  Sheer  funk ;  and 
nothing  else.  Camp  was  in  a  flourishing  condition.  No 
deaths  for  nearly  a  week.  Then,  yesterday,  the  Colonel's 
bearer  must  needs  appropriate  an  unattached  germ  ;  and 
it  seems  that  this  got  on  the  poor  chap's  nerves.  He 
dined  chiefly  off  whisky;  and  afterwards  yarned  away 
to  Lowndes  about  his  wife  and  children.  Hadn't  seen 
'em  for  eight  years.  Never  mentioned  'em  to  Lowndes 
in  his  life  before :  and  from  what  one  has  heard,  the 

1  Any  one  there  !     Bring  tiffin. 


232  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

wire  that  goes  home  this  morning  will  barely  spoil  her 
appetite  for  dinner  ;  which  only  seems  to  add  a  finishing 
touch  to  the  pity  of  it  all.  Mysterious  thing  .  .  .  mar- 
riage .  .  ." 

He  broke  off  short  on  the  word.  The  thought  of  his 
own  first  venture,  and  the  misery  that  might  have  come 
of  it,  but  for  an  accident  so  strange  as  to  seem  unreal, 
sealed  his  lips  on  the  subject  of  the  eternal  riddle  of  the 
universe :  and  Paul,  being  blest  with  understanding, 
unobtrusively  shifted  the  talk  to  another  channel. 

There  could  be  no  thought  of  polo  for  Desmond  that 
afternoon ;  though  Major  Olliver  came  and  reasoned  with 
him  forcibly  in  the  verandah.  He  devoted  himself,  in- 
stead, to  the  exhaustive  disinfection  of  the  sick-room  and 
dressing-room.  It  was  hot  work ;  unpleasant  work.  But 
it  was  good  to  be  through  with  it ;  to  have  rid  the  house 
of  the  last  vestige  of  an  uninvited  and  unwelcome  guest. 
With  which  reflection  Desmond  sat  down  finally  in  the 
sanctuary  of  his  study ;  lit  a  cheroot ;  and  opened  a  bat- 
tered original  of  Omar  Khayyam,  whose  stately  quatrains 
and  exquisite  imagery  were  less  hackneyed  then,  than 
they  have  since  become  among  modern  devotees  of 
culture. 

A  great  silence  pervaded  the  house.  He  had  left 
Lenox  in  the  blessed  borderland  between  sleeping  and 
waking,  with  Zyarulla  on  guard ;  and  looking  in  on  Paul, 
had  found  him  dozing  also,  after  the  morning's  unwonted 
exertion.  No  doubt  Frank  would  drive  Honor  back  for 
tea :  and  even  while  he  read  Desmond's  ear  was  strained 
to  catch  the  sound  of  wheels.  This  capacity  for  sustained 
ardour  is  a  very  rare  quality  in  love  that  has  attained  its 
object,  and  the  woman  who  does  not  succeed — unwittingly 
enough — in  extinguishing  it  within  the  first  few  years  of 
marriage  is  rarer  still. 

The  sound  he  waited  for  came  at  length ;  and  he  sprang 
out  of  his  chair.  But  in  hurrying  through  the  drawing- 
room,  towards  the  hall,  another  sound  arrested  him :  the 
unmistakable  clink  of  the  tonga  bar. 

"  A  tonga  ?  Why,  who  the  deuce  .  .  ? "  he  ejaculated 
mentally.  "It  can't  be  ...  ." 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  233 

But  at  this  point  he  fairly  ran  into  the  arms  of  a 
woman,  in  alpaca  dust  -  cloak  and  shikarri  helmet ;  a 
woman  who  clutched  his  left  arm  with  both  hands :  and 
before  he  could  collect  his  scattered  senses,  Quita's  voice 
was  in  his  ears. 

"  Oh,  Captain  Desmond  .  .  tell  me  .  .  is  he  .  .  .  ? " 

"He  is  out  of  all  danger  now,  .  .  if  he  can  be  kept 
quiet,"  Desmond  answered,  stifling  his  own  amazement  in 
view  of  her  white  face  and  shaking  lips. 

"Thank  God.  Oh,  thank  God!"  The  words  were  a 
mere  flutter  of  breath;  and  with  the  sudden  relief  from 
long  tension  all  her  courage  went  to  pieces.  A  dry  sob 
broke  in  her  throat.  Her  lids  dropped;  and  she  fell 
limply  against  him. 

"  You  poor,  dear,  plucky  woman,"  he  murmured,  putting 
an  arm  round  her,  and  gently  removing  the  heavy  helmet ; 
while  she  lay  motionless ;  her  head  on  his  shoulder ;  no 
vestige  of  colour  in  lips  or  cheeks. 

Desmond  began  to  think  she  must  have  fainted  out- 
right :  and  while  he  held  her  thus,  meditating  a  cautious 
removal  of  his  burden  to  the  sofa,  steps  in  the  hall  were 
followed  by  the  appearance  of  Honor  in  the  doorway: 
a  radiant  Honor,  aglow  with  the  good  news  that  had 
brought  her  straight  back  to  him,  like  a  homing  bird. 
Her  small  gasp  of  surprise  melted  into  a  smile  of  amused 
understanding,  as  Theo  telegraphed  wireless  messages  to 
her  over  the  golden  brown  head  that  was  trespassing, 
flagrantly  and  confidingly,  on  her  own  exclusive  property. 
The  whole  thing  was  so  exactly  like  Quita:  so  daring; 
so  preposterous ;  so  entirely  forgivable !  And  Honor's 
hospitable  brain  at  once  began  scouring  the  bungalow 
for  some  corner  where  she  might  stow  this  unexpected 
addition  to  her  elastic  household. 

"  She  must  have  left  Dalhousie  directly  she  got  my  first 
wire,"  Desmond  said  under  his  breath.  "Get  some 
brandy,  while  I  put  her  down." 

But  his  first  movement  roused  Quita  from  semi- 
unconsciousness.  She  lifted  her  head  with  a  startled 
sound ;  and  at  sight  of  Honor  the  blood  rushed  back  into 
her  face. 

"  This  is   pretty  behaviour ! "   she   said   with   a   little 


234  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

broken  laugh.  "I'm  so  sorry.  It  must  have  been  the 
reaction,  the  relief,  after  that  excruciating  journey." 

"  No  need  to  apologise ! "  Desmond  answered,  a  twinkle 
of  amusement  in  his  eyes.  "No  use  either  to  try 
and  push  my  arm  away.  Let  me  get  you  to  the  sofa 
first." 

Honor  piled  two  cushions  behind  her ;  and  as  she  sank 
back  into  their  silken  softness,  leaned  over  and  kissed  her 
cheek. 

"You  very  wonderful  person,"  she  said.  "How  on 
earth  did  you  pull  through  it,  all  alone?" 

Quita  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  It  was  not  amusing,"  she  answered  with  her  whimsical 
smile.  "But  it  was  an  experience:  and  that  is  always 
something, — when  it  is  over !  I  think  I  never  realised 
before  how  big  and  how  terrible  a  country  India  is:  or 
how  kind  people  are  out  here,"  she  added,  looking  from 
one  to  the  other  with  misty  eyes. 

"  Kind  ?  Nonsense ! "  It  was  Honor  who  spoke. 
"Now  .  .  will  you  have  a  peg,  or  some  tea?" 

"Tea,  please.  And  after  that,  I  may  see  .  .  Eldred, 
mayn't  I  ? " 

Instinctively  she  appealed  to  Desmond,  who  knitted  his 
brows  in  distress.  "  I'm  afraid  that's  out  of  the  question, 
.  .  yet  awhile,"  he  said. 

"  Well  then  .  .  when  ? " 

"  Can't  say  for  certain.  Probably  not  for  two  or  three 
days.  I  wouldn't  so  much  as  risk  telling  him  that  you 
are  here  till  then." 

The  mist  on  her  lashes  overflowed ;  and  she  dashed  an 
impatient  hand  across  them  with  small  result. 

"But  I  have  waited  three  days  already.  And  since 
this  morning  I  have  been  counting  the  hours  .  .  the 
minutes  .  ." 

It  was  no  use.  She  could  not  go  on  without  further 
loss  of  dignity ;  and  Honor  hastened  into  the  breach. 

•'  Drink  your  tea  first,  dear.     You  can  talk  afterwards." 

And  as  she  obeyed,  Desmond  came  round  and  sat 
beside  her. 

"  See  here,  Miss  Maurice,"  he  began.  But  she  raised 
an  imploring  hand. 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  235 

"  Oh,  don't  call  me  that  .  .  now.  It  hurts.  It  makes 
me  feel  I  have  no  manner  of  right  to  be  here.  And  I 
have  a  little  right,  haven't  I?" 

"  More  than  a  little,  I  should  say, .  .  Mrs  Lenox.  Is 
that  better  ? " 

She  flushed  to  the  eyes,  and  glanced  down  at  her  bare 
left  hand.  It  was  the  first  time  she  had  heard  her 
married  name;  and  the  sound  of  it  was  music  in  her 
ears.  But  she  shook  her  head. 

"  No.  It's  almost  worse,  till  I  know  for  certain  what's 
going  to  come  of  my  mad  leap  in  the  dark." 

"Well  then  .  .  .?" 

"  Why  not  .  .  '  Quita '  ? "  She  looked  up  beseechingly. 
"  I  should  love  that :  and  it  would  make  me  feel  less  of 
an  intruder." 

"  You  are  forbidden,  on  pain  of  instantaneous  eviction, 
to  feel  anything  of  the  sort !  And  I  heartily  vote  for 
'  Quita,' "  Desmond  answered,  smiling  into  her  troubled 
face  with  so  irresistible  a  friendliness  that  she  must 
needs  smile  back  at  him,  however  mistily. 

"  Oh,  but  it's  good  to  talk  nonsense  with  you  again ! " 
she  cried.  "  Only,  I  want  to  know, .  .  please,  about 
Eldred.  He  is  too  weak.  Is  that  it?" 

"  Far  too  weak.  You  see,  we  only  pulled  him  round  the 
corner  at  three  o'clock  this  morning ;  and  the  great  thing 
now  is  to  avoid  any  risk  of  reactionary  fever.  Well,  you 
know  yourself  .  .  I  may  speak  frankly  ? "  She  inclined 
her  head.  "Your  coming,  besides  being  emotionally 
disturbing,  will  make  something  of  a  complication  under 
the  circumstances  .  ." 

"  Oh,  I  know  .  .  I  know !  It  seems  like  forcing  his 
hand.  Every  minute  I  see  more  plainly  that  I  ought 
never  to  come  at  all." 

"  Waiting  would  have  been  wiser,"  Desmond  reproved 
her  gently.  "  But  I  admire  the  pluck  of  the  whole  thing 
far  too  much  to  scold  you  for  it." 

Her  smile  had  a  touch  of  wistfulness. 

"  That's  so  like  you !    But  I  don't  know  about  pluck. 

Perhaps,  if  I  had  realised  all  the  details,  I  might  have 

hesitated ;   though  I  doubt  it.     I  half  lost  my  senses  for 

the  time  being;   and  I  believe  poor  Michel  thought  I'd 


236  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

lost  them  permanently!     He  was  furious  with  me  for 
going." 

"  Eather  rough  on  him,  when  you  come  to  think  of  it ! 
But  why  on  earth  didn't  you  wire  to  us  before  starting  ? " 

"  At  first  it  simply  didn't  occur  to  me ;  and  when  it 
did,  I  had  just  sense  enough  to  know  that  you  would 
probably  wire  back  'Don't  come.'  And  even  I  could 
hardly  have  persisted  in  the  face  of  that !  So  I  determined 
to  take  the  small  risk  with  the  big  one.  Dak  bungalows 
seem  to  grow  wild  in  India ;  and  I  thought  there  would 
surely  be  one  here  where  I  could  get  some  sort  of  a  bed." 

"  Dak  bungalow,  indeed !  If  there  is  one,  /  won't  help 
you  to  find  it ! "  This  from  Honor,  in  a  burst  of  righteous 
wrath.  "  So  you  may  as  well  resign  yourself  to  staying 
with  us,  whether  you  like  it  or  not ! " 

"With  you?  Is  it  possible?  I  thought  .  .  .  But 
have  you  really  a  corner  available?  I  could  sleep 
divinely  on  the  hearth-rug,  I'm  so  desperately  tired, 
and  so  relieved." 

"Very  well.  That  settles  it.  But  I'll  let  you  off  the 
hearth-rug,  even  though  you  did  fling  Dak  bungalows  at 
my  head !  Captain  Lenox  is  in  Baby's  nursery  ;  and  we 
can  shut  off  the  dressing-room  for  you,  if  you  can  manage 
with  a  chair-bed.  It's  quite  safe.  Everything  has  been 
disinfected.  I  believe  Theo  knew  you  were  coming ! 
Will  that  do?" 

"  Do  ?  Ma  foi,  .  .  but  how  does  one  say  thank  you  for 
such  goodness  ? " 

"  One  refrains ! "  Desmond  remarked,  handing  her  empty 
cup  across  to  his  wife. 

Quita  laughed. 

"  You  are  incorrigible ! "  said  she.  "  But  there  is  still 
this  to  think  of.  With  your  friends  coming  and  going, 
how  am  I  to  be  .  .  accounted  for  till  I  have  seen  .  . 
Eldred  ?  If  I  am  Miss  Maurice,  par  exemple,  what  am  I 
doing  in  Dera  Ishmael  ?  And  if  not  .  .  ?  Mon  Dieu, 
but  it's  an  ignominious  tangle.  I'm  as  bad  as  Alice  in 
Wonderland  in  the  wood.  I  seem  suddenly  to  have  lost 
my  identity :  and  in  my  mad  anxiety  and  impatience  to 
get  here  I  never  thought  anything  about  it  till  I  was 
sweltering  in  that  horrible  barge  this  morning.  Shall  I 


THE   TENTS    OF    ISHMAEL.  237 

live  altogether  in  my  room  ?  It  would  be  no  more  than 
I  deserve." 

"My  dear,  you'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort."  It  was 
Honor  this  time.  "Luckily  for  you,  the  Battery's  in 
camp ;  and  since  Captain  Lenox's  illness  there's  been  an 
end  of  my  tea-parties.  Our  own  people  may  be  looking 
in  now  he's  better.  But  for  the  next  two  days  or  so  I 
shall  simply  be  ' dawazar  bund'1  It  needs  no  effort  to 
develop  a  headache,  or  a  touch  of  fever  this  weather. 
There's  only  Paul,  and  Frank,  whom  I  couldn't  shut  out. 
May  we  just  explain  to  them,  more  or  less,  how  things 
stand  ? " 

"  But  yes.    Of  course  you  must.    And  .  .  after  all  .  .  ." 

She  hesitated,  flushing  painfully. 

"  After  all,"  Desmond  came  to  her  rescue,  "  it  won't  be 
so  very  long  before  the  vexed  question  of  your  identity  is 
settled  for  good.  Now  I'd  better  go  and  speak  to  Paul. 
He  may  be  turning  up  for  tea,  any  minute ;  and  that 
would  be  awkward  for  you." 

As  he  reached  the  door  at  the  far  end  of  the  room, 
Honor  fled  after  him. 

"Kead  those,  dear,"  she  said  breathlessly,  thrusting  a 
letter  and  telegram  into  his  hand.  "  They  will  account 
for  this  morning.  I  had  bad  news.  But  thank  God  it's 
all  right  now.  I  wired." 

"  And  never  told  me  ?  " 

"  You  were  so  happy.     How  could  I  ? " 

"  Then  that  was  why  you  bolted  ? " 

"  Yes.     I  couldn't  have  kept  it  up  for  long." 

"Well  .  .  I've  no  time  to  scold  you  now,"  he  said, 
looking  unspeakable  things  at  her.  "  Wait  till  I  get  you 
to  myself,  .  .  that's  all !  " 

This  short  colloquy,  carried  on  in  an  undertone,  did  not 
reach  Quita's  ears. 

"  What  sort  of  a  man  is  this  Paul  ? "  she  asked  as 
Honor  returned  to  her  chair.  ".I  don't  know  his  other 
name !  Is  he  the  sort  that  would  be  likely  to  understand 
.  .  our  very  incomprehensible  position  ? " 

Honor  took  a  leather  frame  from  the  table  beside  her, 
and  put  it  into  Quita's  hands. 

1  Not  at  home. 


238  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  If  you  are  any  judge  of  faces,  that's  the  best  answer  I 
can  give  you." 

Quita  scanned  the  picture  abstractedly  for  several 
seconds. 

"  Yes.  He'll  do,"  was  her  verdict.  Then  she  flung  the 
thing  from  her ;  and  burying  her  face  in  the  cushions 
sobbed  with  the  heart-broken  abandonment  of  a  child. 

"  Oh,  what  a  blind  fool  I  was  to  come ! "  she  lamented 
through  her  tears.  "  I  don't  believe  he'll  understand  my 
madness.  And  if  he  doesn't  .  .  .  he'll  never  forgive 
me!" 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

"  Here  the  lost  hours  the  lost  hours  renew." — ROSETTI. 

"  IT  progresses,  doesn't  it  ? " 

"  It  does  more  than  that.  It  lives.  You've  transfigured 
it  in  these  few  days ;  and  I  like  your  knack  of  emphasis- 
ing essentials  without  jarring  the  harmony  of  the  whole. 
You  ought  to  make  your  mark  as  a  portrait  painter  in 
time." 

"  I've  done  so  already  .  .  more  or  less,"  Quita  answered 
modestly,  stepping  backward,  with  tilted  head,  to  get  a 
better  view  of  her  achievement.  It  was  the  study  of 
Lenox,  which,  for  all  her  perturbation,  she  had  packed  as 
tenderly  as  if  it  were  a  live  thing ;  and  which  alone  had 
made  life  endurable  for  the  past  three  days.  Her  easel 
had  been  set  up  in  the  dining-room,  where  she  could  work 
without  fear  of  chance  intruders,  who  gravitated  either  to 
the  drawing-room  or  the  study :  and  on  this  fourth  morning 
after  her  arrival,  she  was  standing  at  it  with  Desmond, 
who  had  looked  in  for  a  word  with  her  before  starting  for 
the  Lines.  "  If  you  were  to  go  home  now,"  she  added,  after 
a  pause,  "you  would  find  the  name  Quita  Maurice  not 
quite  unknown  in  artistic  circles.  But  they'll  never  see 
this,  though  it's  going  to  be  the  best  thing  I've  done  yet ; 
because  .  .  ." 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  239 

"  Yes,  naturally,  .  .  because  .  .  ." 

"  How  nice  you  are  ! "  she  said  simply.  "  One  needn't 
dot  the  i's,  and  cross  all  the  t's  with  you.  Of  course  it's 
very  incomplete  still.  A  suggestive  study  is  the  most  one 
can  achieve  from  memory.  So  you  mustn't  judge  it  as  a 
portrait, — yet.  It's  just  a  daring  experiment  that  no  right- 
minded  artist  would  have  attempted.  But  it's  come  out 
better  than  I  thought  possible.  And  I'm  glad  you  like 
my  work." 

"I  do ;  no  question.  I'm  no  "critic,  though ;  only  a 
soldier,  with  a  taste  for  most  kinds  of  art.  It's  full  of 
latent  vigour ;  rugged  without  being  rough,  like  Lenox 
himself.  A  fine  bit  of  weathered  rock,  eh  ?  I  am  only 
afraid  that  after  feasting  your  eyes  on  this,  the  original 
may  give  you  something  of  a  shock  at  first  sight." 

"  Is  he  so  terribly  changed  .  .  in  one  month  ? " 

"  Well,  think  what  he's  been  through.  Concussion  and 
cholera  have  knocked  some  of  the  vigour  out  of  him ;  and 
he  looks  years  older,  for  the  time  being.  But  you  mustn't 
let  that  upset  you.  It's  not  unusual  after  cholera;  and 
in  a  week  he'll  be  looking  more  like  himself  again." 

Then  the  truth  dawned  on  her. 

"Captain  Desmond,  —  are  you  telling  me  all  this 
because  .  .  ?" 

"  Yes  .  .  again,  because  .  .  .  ! "  he  answered,  smiling. 

"To-day?" 

"  As  soon  as  you  please." 

She  gave  a  little  gasp ;  then  shut  her  lips  tightly. 

"Do  you  mean  .  .  have  you  actually  told  him?"  she 
murmured  with  averted  eyes. 

"Yes." 

"  And  did  he— is  he ? " 

"It's  not  for  me  to  say."  Desmond  seemed  equal  to 
any  amount  of  incoherence  this  morning.  "  You'll  find 
out  for  yourself  in  no  time." 

"Oh  dear!" 

"  Is  it  as  dreadful  as  all  that  ? " 

"  In  some  ways, — yes.     It  takes  my  breath  away." 

"  Try  and  get  it  back  before  you  go  in  to  him,"  he  coun- 
selled her  kindly.  "  And  keep  some  sort  of  hold  on  your- 
self— for  his  sake.  Don't  trouble  him  about  results,  unless 


240  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

he  broaches  the  subject.  If  we  can  keep  clear  of  the 
worry  element,  just  getting  hold  of  you  again  may  do  him 
a  power  of  good." 

Then, — creature  of  moods  and  impulse  that  she  was, — 
she  turned  on  him  spontaneously,  both  hands  outflung. 

"  Mon  Dieu,  what  a  friend  you  have  been  to  us  both ! 
Thank  you  a  thousand  times,  for  everything.  I  know 
you  hate  it.  But  if  I  kept  it  in  any  longer,  I  should 
burst ! " 

"  Just  as  well  you  let  it  out,  then,"  Desmond  answered, 
laughing,  and  grasping  the  proffered  hands.  "  I  must  be 
off  now.  Good  luck  to  you,  Quita.  You're  worthy  of 
him." 

For  some  minutes  after  he  had  gone  Quita  stood  very 
still,  trying  to  get  her  breath  back,  as  he  had  suggested : 
a  less  simple  affair  than  it  seemed,  on  the  face  of  it.  For 
although  she  had  taken  the  plunge,  in  an  impulse  of 
despair,  a  week  ago,  she  had  only  grasped  the  outcome  in 
all  its  bearings  during  the  past  three  days,  throughout 
which  she  had  been  acutely  aware  of  Eldred's  presence  on 
the  farther  side  of  her  barred  and  bolted  door.  He  had 
told  her  plainly  that,  until  he  felt  quite  sure  of  himself, 
he  dared  not  take  her  back.  Yet  now,  by  her  own  uncon- 
sidered  act,  she  was  forcing  upon  him,  at  the  least,  a  public 
recognition  of  their  marriage;  an  acknowledgment  that 
might  make  further  separation  difficult,  if  not  impossible, 
for  the  present.  All  her  pride  and  independence  of  spirit 
revolted  against  this  unvarnished  statement  of  fact ;  and 
the  memory  of  Michael's  random  remark  heightened  her 
nervous  apprehension.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  Love — 
who  is  a  born  peace-maker — argued  that,  after  all,  he 
might  not  be  sorry  to  have  his  hand  forced  by  so  clear  a 
proof  of  all  that  she  was  ready  to  do  and  suffer  on  his 
behalf.  An  argument  strongly  reinforced  by  her  original 
determination  to  overrule  his  scruples,  and  help  him  in 
the  struggle  that  loomed  ahead. 

In  this  fashion  Love  and  Pride  tossed  decision  to  and 
fro,  as  they  have  done  in  a  hundred  heart-histories ;  till 
common-sense  stepped  in  with  the  reminder  that  Eldred 
was  waiting;  and  that  by  now  retreat  was  out  of  the 
question.  The  thought  roused  her  to  a  more  normal  state 


THE   TENTS    OF    ISHMAEL.  241 

of  confidence  and  courage.  Putting  away  palette  and 
brushes,  she  covered  up  her  canvas :  and  because,  for  all 
her  artistry,  she  was  very  much  a  woman,  went  straight- 
way— not  to  her  husband's  door — but  to  her  own  mirror ! 
The  vision  that  looked  out  at  her  was  by  no  means  dis- 
couraging :  a  demure  vision,  in  a  simple,  unconventional 
gown  of  green  linen,  with  a  Puritan  collar,  and  a  wide 
white  ribbon  at  the  waist.  A  few  superfluous  touches  to 
her  hair,  and  equally  superfluous  tweaks  to  the  bow  of  her 
ribbon  belt,  wrought  some  infinitesimal  improvement  in 
the  picture,  which  no  mere  man,  hungeiing  for  the  sight 
and  sound  of  her,  would  be  the  least  likely  to  detect. 
Then  half  a  dozen  swift  steps  brought  her  to  his  door :  the 
one  that  communicated  with  the  dining-room. 

It  opened  on  to  a  curtain,  about  which  there  still  clung 
a  faint  suggestion  of  carbolic. 

"  Eldred  ? "  she  said  softly.  And  the  voice  she  had  last 
heard  through  the  hiss  of  rain,  and  the  crash  of  broken 
branches,  answered :  "  Come  in." 

She  pushed  aside  the  curtain,  and  stood  so,  paralysed 
by  a  nervousness  altogether  new  to  her. 

He  lay  on  a  Madeira  lounge- chair,  with  pillows  at  his 
back.  Every  bone  in  his  face,  every  line  scored  by  the 
graving-tools  of  conflict  and  pain,  showed  cruelly  distinct 
in  the  morning  light.  At  sight  of  her,  he  tried  to  speak ; 
but  the  muscles  of  his  throat  rebelled:  and  he  simply 
held  out  his  arms.  Then,  in  one  rush,  she  came  to  him  : 
and  as  he  laid  hands  on  her,  drawing  her  down  on  to  a 
spare  corner  of  his  chair,  she  leaned  forward  and  buried 
her  face  in  the  soft  flannel  of  his  coat. 

Nothing  but  silence  becomes  the  great  moments  of  life : 
and  for  a  long  while  he  held  her  thus,  without  power  or 
desire  of  speech.  All  his  man's  strength  melted  in  him 
at  the  faint  fragrance  of  her  hair ;  at  the  exquisite  yielding 
of  her  figure,  as  she  lay  palpitating  against  him ;  at  the 
yet  more  exquisite  assurance  that  the  love  he  had  gained 
was  a  thing  beyond  estimation,  a  thing  indestructible  as 
the  soul  itself.  For  her  very  surrender  was  quick  with 
the  vitality  that  was  her  crowning  charm. 

And  she,  feeling  the  tremor  that  ran  through  him  as  he 
kissed  the  blue-veined  hollow  of  her  temple, — the  only 

Q 


242  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

space  available  —  exulted  in  the  belief  that  love  had 
triumphed  over  bloodless  scruples  once  and  for  all. 

"  Quita,"  he  whispered  at  length,  "  what  possessed  you 
to  face  that  nightmare  of  a  journey  alone  ? " 

"  You  possessed  me."  She  made  no  attempt  to  lift  her 
head. 

"  But,  my  darling,  you  ought  not  to  have  come.  You 
ought  not  to  be  here.  You  know  that." 

"  Yes.  I  know  it.  Are  you  .  .  angry,  that  I  am 
here?" 

"  Angry  ?  My  God !  It's  new  life  to  me.  Your  voice, 
just  the  music  of  it,  gets  into  my  head  like  wine.  Look 
up,  lass.  I  love  your  hair,  every  wisp  and  thread  of  it. 
But  I  am  waiting  for  something  more." 

The  appeal  was  irresistible ;  and  she  looked  up,  accord- 
ingly, setting  her  hands  lightly  on  his  shoulders.  The 
change  wrought  in  him  by  illness  and  mental  struggle 
pierced  her  like  a  physical  pang ;  and  her  eyes  fell  before 
the  yearning  in  his,  the  revelation  of  chained-up  forces, 
and  emotions  straining  at  the  leash.  Then,  still  keeping 
her  lids  closed,  she  tilted  her  head  backward,  her  lips 
just  parted ;  and  again,  as  on  that  night  of  enchantment 
at  Kajiar,  they  were  swept  beyond  the  boundaries  of 
space  and  time ;  beyond  the  stumbling-blocks,  the  pitiful 
limitations  of  earth. 

But  limitations  are  as  indispensable  to  life  on  our  be- 
wildering planet  as  bread  and  meat.  The  wine  of  ecstasy 
can  only  be  taken  in  small  doses,  at  a  price. 

Quita  sat  upright  at  last,  on  the  spare  corner  of  her 
husband's  chair,  flushed,  smiling,  and  not  a  little  tremu- 
lous. Stumbling-blocks  and  limitations  loomed  again  on 
the  horizon.  But  for  the  present  she  would  have  none 
of  them.  Eldred  was  not  angry.  He  wanted  her — 
supremely : — how  supremely,  his  lips  had  just  been  tell- 
ing her  in  language  more  primitive,  more  forcible  than 
speech. 

And  now  he  lay  merely  watching  her,  still  retaining 
her  hands,  drinking  in  the  penetrating  charm  of  her,  as 
a  parched  traveller  drinks  at  a  roadside  spring. 

"Well?"  he  asked  presently.  "After  all  that— what 
next?  There's  the  rub." 


THE   TENTS    OF    ISHMAEL.  243 

"  Need  we  spoil  these  first  heavenly  moments  together 
by  looking  for  rocks  ahead,  mon  cher  ?  Captain  Desmond 
begged  me  to  keep  the  '  worry  element '  at  arm's-length." 

"  Dear  old  Desmond !  He's  made  of  gold.  But  now 
that  you  are  here,  you've  got  to  be  explained.  And 
there's  only  one  way  to  explain  you — Mrs  Lenox ! " 

Her  face  quivered. 

"  Eldred,  I  won't  be  explained  .  .  that  way,  unless 
.  .  you  really  wish  it.  Only  Mrs  Olliver  and  Major 
Wyndham  know  about  me :  and  now  I've  seen  you,  and 
feel  sure  there's  no  more  danger,  I  can  easily  go  back  to 
Dalhousie  and  stay  there,  till  you  .  .  till  you're  more 
ready  for  me." 

"  Can  you  though  ? "  He  pressed  her  hands.  "  And 
do  you  believe  I  am  capable  of  packing  you  off  to- 
morrow ? " 

"  I  don't  know.  I  think  you'd  prefer  not  to.  But  I 
believe  you  are  capable  of  doing  anything,  once  you're 
convinced  it's  right." 

"  Dearest,  indeed  I'm  not."  He  spoke  with  sudden 
vehemence.  "  If  I  were,  we  might  be  clear  of  this  un- 
holy tangle  by  now.  But  since  you've  honoured  me  by 
plunging  into  hell  fire  on  my  account,  I  can't  let  you  go 
again  .  .  .  yet." 

The  last  word  fell  like  a  drop  of  cold  water  on  the  hope 
that  glowed  at  her  heart.  But  she  chose  to  ignore  it. 

"Well  then?" 

He  raised  one  hand,  and  laid  it  lightly  on  her  breast, 
feeling  for  hidden  treasure.  Then  his  fingers  closed  on 
the  two  rings;  and  he  smiled. 

"  Since  you  seem  to  have  forgiven  the  ill-tempered  chap 
who  gave  you  those,  you  might  do  worse  than  have  'em 
out,  and  wear  them — by  way  of  explanation ! " 

Her  own  hand  went  up  to  them,  instinctively,  and 
closed  over  his. 

"  I'll  take  them  out  now,  at  once,  if  you'll  promise  to 
put  the  wedding  one  on,  yourself,  with  the  proper  words." 

"  What  ?     Not  the  whole  blessed  service  ? " 

At  the  note  of  dismay  in  his  voice  her  laughter  rang 
out,  clear  and  natural;  a  silver  sound,  that  pierced  him 
with  its  poignant  sweetness. 


244  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"Darling  idiot!  Of  course  not.  I  only  meant  the 
'  ring '  words  for  luck.  Though  if  I  could  have  my  own 
way,  I'd  like  the  whole  thing  over  again,  to  make  it  feel 
more  real.  All  that  seems  to  have  happened  to  a  not 
very  admirable  girl  I  once  knew,  in  another  life." 

"  Does  it  indeed  ? "  he  asked,  smiling  upon  her  in  great 
contentment.  "  I  rather  admired  that  girl  myself !  But 
believe  me,  Quita,  it's  all  real  enough  to  satisfy  us  both. 
'  There's  no  discharge  in  that  war.'  And  you  don't  get 
a  human  man  to  go  through  the  ordeal  of  that  service 
except  under  severe  stress  of  circumstance !  If  I  couldn't 
recapture  you  any  other  way,  I'd  do  it  .  .  with  alacrity. 
Not  unless." 

"  But  who  will  do  the  explaining  to  the  station  at 
large  ? " 

"  Desmond  and  his  wife  will  gladly  do  that  much  for 
us."  He  was  about  to  add  that  his  chief  friend  knew 
already:  but  decided  that  it  would  be  hardly  fair  on 
Dick  to  'give  him  away.' 

"  And  where  did  it  all  happen  ? "  she  demanded,  dimp- 
ling with  enjoyment.  "  In  Dalhousie  ? " 

"  I  imagine  so." 

"  You  mustn't  imagine.  We  must  have  all  the  details 
clear,  so  as  to  lie  consistently ! " 

"  Well  then,  to  account  for  our  abruptness,  we'll  decide 
that  I  lost  my  heart  to  you  at  home,  some  time  ago ;  and 
rediscovered  you  by  chance  in  Dalhousie." 

She  laughed  again,  from  pure  exuberance  of  happiness. 

"  That's  capital !  I'll  explain  it  all  to  Mrs  Desmond ; 
and  she  shall  do  the  rest." 

While  they  talked,  she  had  succeeded  in  extricating  her 
rings  ;  and  now  she  dropped  them  into  his  open  palm  : — 
the  gold  band  of  Destiny,  and  the  hoop  of  sapphires  and 
diamonds  that  he  had  chosen  with  such  elaborate  care,  and 
presented  to  her  with  such  awkward,  palpitating  shyness 
nearly  six  years  ago. 

"  Put  them  on,  please,"  she  said  softly,  thrusting  out 
her  wedding  finger.  " '  For  better  for  worse ;  for  richer 
for  poorer;  in  sickness  and  in  health;  till  death  us  do 
part.'" 

On  the  last  words  she  lifted  her  head.    He  caught  the 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  245 

gleam  of  tears  on  her  lashes,  and  slipped  the  ring  on  to 
her  finger;  uttering  the  triple  asseveration  with  a  sup- 
pressed fervour  rarely  to  be  heard  at  the  altar  rails. 
Then  the  second  hoop  was  added:  and,  still  keeping 
possession  of  the  fettered  hand,  he  sat  silent  a  moment, 
looking  down  at  his  achievement  with  an  absurd  sense 
of  satisfaction.  Quita  was  looking  at  it  also,  wondering 
if  he  could  hear  the  hammering  of  her  heart. 

"  Now  we  are  really  married,"  she  murmured  as  simply 
as  a  child. 

"Weren't  we  before?"  he  asked,  on  a  note  of  amuse- 
ment. 

"  I  suppose  so.     It  didn't  feel  like  it." 

"  And  does  it  feel  more  like  it  now  ?  " 

"  Not  much,  yet.    But  it  will,  in  time." 

"  Yes.     In  time" 

The  pause,  and  the  emphasis  smote  her.  But  again  she 
ignored  the  cloud  no  bigger  than  a  man's  hand;  defying 
its  power  to  veil  her  sunlight. 

"  The  proper  thing  after  a  wedding  is  .  .  to  kiss  your 
wife,"  she  remarked  demurely,  without  looking  up. 

"  Is  it  ?     I  don't  remember  doing  so  last  time." 

"  You  never  did ;  and  it's  bad  luck  not  to.  That's  why 
everything  went  wrong !  You  were  too  shy ;  and  .  .  your 
first  wife  didn't  much  like  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  My  second  wife  will  have  to  put  up  with  it,  whether 
she  likes  it  or  not ! "  he  answered,  drawing  her  towards 
him  by  dear  and  delicious  degrees.  "  We  won't  play  fast 
and  loose  with  our  luck  this  time." 

An  abrupt  knock  at  the  door  startled  her  out  of  his 
arms;  and  the  curtain  was  pushed  aside  by  Desmond: 
— a  strangely  transfigured  Desmond,  with  set  jaw,  and 
desperate  eyes. 

"  My  dear  man  .  ."  Lenox  began.  But  an  intuition 
of  catastrophe  past  the  show  of  speech  made  him  break 
off  short. 

Then  Desmond  spoke,  in  a  voice  thick  and  unlike  his 
own. 

"  Sorry  to  spoil  things  by  interrupting  you  in  this  way. 
But  one  had  to  tell  you.  It's  Honor  .  .  ." 

He  could  get  no  further :  but  his  eyes  were  terribly 


246  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

eloquent ;  and  the  silence  held  them  all  as  in  a  vice  The 
awakening  woman  in  Quita  gave  her  courage  to  break  it. 

"  May  I  go  to  her  ? "  she  pleaded.  "  And  help  her  .  . 
if  one  can  ?  " 

Though  the  plea  was  addressed  to  Desmond,  she 
glanced  first  at  Lenox,  and  read  approval  in  his  eyes. 

But  Desmond  shook  his  head. 

"  That's  my  business,"  he  answered  quietly.  He  had 
mastered  his  voice  by  now.  "  I  want  you  to  take  over 
charge  here.  It's  a  sharp  attack.  I  shan't  leave  her 
again,  till  .  .  .  it's  over." 

And  before  either  of  them  knew  how  to  answer  him, 
the  curtain  had  fallen  heavily  behind  him. 

Overwhelming  tragedy,  striking  across  their  golden 
hour  like  a  naked  sword,  wrenched  them  out  of  them- 
selves. 

Without  a  word  Quita  knelt  down  beside  her  husband, 
bowing  her  forehead  on  the  back  of  his  hand.  Women  of 
her  temperament  are  little  given  to  the  habit  of  prayer  : 
and  her  rare  communings  with  the  Hidden  Soul  of  Things 
more  often  took  the  form  of  wordless  aspiration,  than  of 
direct  petition  or  praise.  But  now  her  uplifted  soul 
went  out  in  a  passionate  appeal  to  the  Great  Giver, 
and  the  great  Taker  Away,  for  the  life  of  the  woman 
whom  she  had  hated  so  heartily  less  than  three  months 
ago. 

And  Lenox  lay  looking  straight  before  him,  stroking 
her  hair  soothingly  from  time  to  time. 

"  Desmond  is  a  strong  man,  a  very  strong  man,"  he 
said,  as  if  speaking  to  himself.  "  But  there's  a  flaw  in 
his  armour  just  above  the  heart;  and  I  believe  that  if 
any  real  harm  comes  to  that  wife  of  his,  he'll  go  to  pieces, 
like  a  wheel  with  the  centre  knocked  out." 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  247 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

"  What  Love  may  do,  that  dares  Love  attempt." 

— SHAKSPERE. 

IT  was  evening  at  last:    a  sullen,   breathless   evening, 
heavy  with  threatening  cloud. 

Since  morning  Honor  Desmond  had  been  fighting  for 
life,  against  appalling  odds ;  while  the  man,  whose  love 
for  her  almost  amounted  to  a  religion,  did  all  that  human 
skill  could  devise,  which  was  pitifully  little  after  all,  to 
ease  the  torturing  thirst  and  pain,  to  uphold  the  vitality 
that  ebbed  visibly  with  the  ebbing  day.  But  the  very 
vigour  of  her  constitution  went  against  her ;  for  cholera 
takes  strong  hold  upon  the  strong.  And  Desmond  never 
left  her  for  an  instant.  He  seemed  to  have  passed  beyond 
the  zone  of  hunger,  thirst,  or  weariness,  to  have  reached 
that  exalted  pitch  of  suffering  where  the  soul  transcends 
the  body's  imperious  demands,  asserts  itself,  momentarily, 
for  the  absolute  unconquerable  thing  it  is. 

Frank  Olliver,  in  defiance  of  a  July  sun,  flitted  rest- 
lessly in  and  out  of  the  bungalow ;  and  since  Desmond 
would  admit  no  one  but  the  doctor  to  his  wife's  room, 
she  found  some  measure  of  comfort  in  futile  attempts  to 
lighten  Paul  Wyndham's  anxiety,  and  distract  his  thoughts; 
while  the  newly  joined  husband  and  wife,  so  strangely 
isolated  in  their  moment  of  reunion,  waited  and  hoped 
through  the  interminable  hours,  and  snatched  fugitive 
gleams  of  contentment  from  the  fact  that  now,  at  least, 
they  could  suffer  together. 

James  Mackay,  the  regimental  doctor,  a  crustacean 
type  of  Scot,  came  and  went  as  frequently  as  his  manifold 
duties  would  permit.  On  each  occasion  he  was  waylaid 
in  the  dining-room  by  Paul  Wyndham,  his  face  haggard 
with  suffering;  and  on  each  occasion  the  little  man's 
decisive  headshake  struck  a  fresh  blow  at  the  hope  that 
took  '  such  an  unconscionable  time  a-dying.'  Finally  he 
spoke  his  conviction  outright.  It  was  late  afternoon,  and 
Honor's  strength  and  courage,  though  still  'flickering  fit- 
fully, were  almost  spent. 


248  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  I'm  doubting  if  we  can  do  much  more  for  her  now," 
he  said,  when  the  door  of  her  room  had  been  quietly 
closed  behind  him.  "  It'll  be  no  less  than  a  miracle  if 
she  lasts  through  the  night." 

"  Have  you  told  him  that  ? "  Wyndham  asked  in  a 
voice  of  stunned  quietness. 

"  Man  alive,  no !  'Twould  be  no  mortal  use.  He  won't 
give  up  hope  till  the  last  nail's  in  her  coffin."  Paul 
winced  visibly,  and  by  way  of  atonement  for  his  blunt- 
ness,  the  other  made  haste  to  add :  "  If  there's  the 
remotest  chance  of  pulling  her  through,  Desmond  '11  do  it. 
You  may  swear  to  that.  The  man's  just  one  concentrated, 
incarnate  purpose." 

Wyndham  set  his  lips,  and  turned  away  :  and  the 
Scotchman  stood  eyeing  him  keenly. 

"  What  sort  of  a  tiffin  did  you  have  ? "  he  asked  with 
rough  kindliness. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.     Nothing  much." 

"  I  thought  so.  Eat  a  good  dinner,  man.  Starvation's 
no  use  to  any  one,  and  I  don't  want  to  have  you  back  on 
my  hands." 

With  that  he  departed,  and  Wyndham  had  just  decided 
on  filling  another  pipe,  since  some  pretence  at  occupation 
was  imperative,  when  Meredith  entered  unannounced. 

A  glance  at  his  face  showed  Paul  that  he  knew,  and 
believed  the  worst ;  and  for  a  moment  they  confronted 
one  another  in  mute  dismay.  The  Englishman's  inability 
to  put  his  heart  into  words  has  its  pathetic  aspect  at 
times.  These  two  men  were  linked  by  years  of  mutual 
work,  and  immediate  mutual  pain  :  yet  Wyndham  merely 
laid  down  his  pipe  and  asked :  "  Have  you  seen 
Mackay  ? " 

"  Yes.  Met  him  on  my  way  here.  I'm  going  in  to  her 
at  once." 

And  Paul,  picking  up  the  discarded  pipe,  looked  after 
him  with  envy  and  hunger  in  his  eyes. 

Meredith  knocked  at  the  bedroom  door. 

"  Who's  there  ? "  Desmond's  voice  came  sharp  as  a 
challenge. 

"  John." 

"  Gome  in,  then." 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  249 

And  he  went  in. 

The  room  was  large,  lofty,  and  very  simply  furnished. 
With  the  leisurely  swaying  of  the  punkah,  light  and 
shadow  flitted  across  the  wide,  low  bed,  on  one  side  of 
which  Honor  lay,  warmly  covered  with  blankets,  her 
breath  coming  in  laboured  gasps.  Desmond  knelt  by  her ; 
and,  on  Meredith's  entrance,  set  down  the  feeding-cup, 
but  because  her  hand  was  on  his  coat-sleeve,  he  did  not 
change  his  position,  or  rise  from  his  knees.  She  held  out 
the  other  to  Meredith.  But  it  fell  limply  before  he 
could  reach  her. 

"  John  .  .  dear,"  she  greeted  him  in  a  husky  whisper. 
"  I'm  so  glad.  Sit  near  me  .  .  here." 

He  obeyed,  seating  himself  on  the  unoccupied  part  of 
the  bed ;  and  taking  up  her  hand,  cherished  it  between 
both  his  own.  It  was  cold  and  clammy,  the  finger-tips 
wrinkled  like  a  washerwoman's,  and  at  sight  of  her  face 
his  self-control  deserted  him,  so  that  he  dared  not  risk 
speech.  For  cholera  does  its  work  swiftly  and  effica- 
ciously, and  in  eight  hours  Honor  Desmond's  beauty  had 
been  ruthlessly  wiped  out.  In  the  grey,  pinched  features 
and  sunken  eyes — already  dimmed  by  a  creeping  film 
that  blurred  the  two  faces  she  so  loved — it  was  hard  to 
trace  any  likeness  to  the  radiant  woman  of  twenty-four 
hours  ago.  Only  the  burnished  bronze  of  her  hair,  encir- 
cling her  head  in  a  large  loose  plait,  remained  untouched 
by  the  finger  of  death. 

When  Meredith  could  command  his  voice,  he  spoke 
quietly  and  cheerfully  of  the  day's  work,  and  of  the  cer- 
tainty that  she  would  pull  through.  Then  the  hand  in 
his  stirred  uneasily. 

"  What  is  it,  dear  ? "  he  asked. 

"  John,  I  want  you  to  remember," — the  voice  was  still 
husky,  and  she  spoke  with  difficulty — "  whatever  happens, 
.  .  and  tell  father,  please  .  .  it  wasn't  Theo's  fault.  It 
was  mine." 

The  hand  on  her  husband's  coat-sleeve  felt  its  way  up 
uncertainly,  till  it  rested  in  a  lingering  caress  on  the  dark 
bowed  head.  For  Desmond,  leaning  on  his  elbow,  had 
covered  his  eyes  with  one  hand. 

Meredith  frowned. 


250  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

"  Dearest  girl,  it  was  no  one's  fault.  Besides,  you  are 
going  to  get  well.  But  talking  is  a  strain  on  you  now. 
I'll  look  in  later." 

He  stooped  and  kissed  her  forehead. 

"  Good-bye,"  she  whispered. 

"  No,  not  good-bye,"  he  contradicted  her  steadily.  "  I 
shall  see  you  again  after  mess." 

She  sighed,  and  her  lids  fell.  The  terrible  apathy  of 
cholera  was  crushing  the  soldier  spirit  out  of  her  by 
inches. 

"  God  !  I  don't  believe  she  heard  me,"  he  murmured  in 
sudden  despair. 

At  that  Desmond  uncovered  his  eyes.  "  She  heard 
you,  right  enough,"  he  said  quietly.  "  Trust  me  not  to  let 
her  go." 

And  Meredith  went  reluctantly  out,  leaving  man  and 
wife  alone  with  the  Shadowy  Third ;  the  only  third  that 
could  ever  come  between  them. 

Honor's  hand  slipped  down  from  his  head  to  his 
shoulder,  and  she  opened  her  eyes ;  the  soul  in  them 
struggling  to  pierce  the  mists  that  deepened  every 
minute. 

"Darling,"  she  breathed.  "Come  closer  .  .  much 
closer.  I  wish  .  .  I  wish  you  didn't  seem  all  blurred." 

He  bent  nearer,  looking  steadfastly  into  her  altered 
face. 

"That  better,  dear?"  he  asked,  controlling  his  voice 
with  an  effort. 

"  Yes.  A  little.  Whatever  John  may  say,  it  was  my 
fault,"  she  persisted,  for  in  spite  of  pain  and  prostration, 
the  mists  had  not  clouded  her  brain.  "  It  was  selfish  of 
me  to  insist.  See  .  .  what  I've  made  you  suffer.  But 
you  don't  .  .  blame  me,  do  you,  .  .  in  your  heart  ? " 

"  Blame  you,  .  .  my  best  beloved  ?  How  can  you  ask 
it  ?  I  .  .  I  worship  you,"  he  added  very  low. 

The  extravagant  word,  reviving  dear  and  imperishable 
memories,  called  up  a  quivering  smile,  more  heart-piercing 
than  a  cry :  and  Desmond,  putting  a  great  restraint  upon 
himself,  enfolded  her  with  one  arm,  and  kissed  her  softly, 
lingeringly,  as  one  might  kiss  a  child. 

"My  very  Theo,"  she  murmured,  her  voice  breaking 


THE   TENTS   OF    ISHMAEL.  251 

with  love.  "  It  has  been  so  perfect  .  .  I  suppose  that's 
why  .  .  Not  three  years  yet ;  and  .  .  I  can't  bear  .  .  to 
leave  you  behind,  even  for  a  little." 

"You'll  not  do  that,  Honor,"  his  voice  had  the  level 
note  of  decision.  "  If  you  go,  ...  I  go  too." 

"  No,  no.    You  must  wait  .  .  for  your  boy." 

Desmond  set  his  teeth,  and  answered  nothing.  In  the 
stress  of  anguish  he  had  forgotten  his  child. 

Suddenly  a  convulsive  shuddering  ran  through  her,  and 
her  breath  came  short  and  quick. 

"Theo,  .  .  what's  happening?"  she  panted.  "Where 
are  you  ?  Hold  me.  Everything's  .  .  slipping  away." 

It  cut  him  to  the  heart  to  unclasp  the  fingers  that  clung 
to  him ;  though  he  was  back  again  in  a  moment,  holding 
weak  brandy  and  water  to  her  lips. 

"  Drink  it,  Honor.  For  God's  sake,  drink  it ! "  he  com- 
manded, a  ring  of  fear  in  his  voice.  For  in  that  moment, 
a  change,  terrible  and  significant,  had  come  over  her.  His 
appeal  produced  no  response,  no  movement  of  lips  or 
eyelids.  Her  face  seemed  to  shrink  and  sharpen,  and 
change  colour  before  his  eyes.  Her  breath  was  cold  as 
the  air  from  a  cave. 

He  set  down  the  wine-glass,  and  in  the  first  shock  and 
horror  of  it  all  stood  like  a  man  turned  to  stone.  Then 
common-sense  pricked  him  back  to  life,  and  to  the  neces- 
sity for  immediate  action.  After  so  sharp  an  attack, 
collapse  would  probably  be  severe  and  prolonged.  He 
laid  his  fingers  on  her  pulse.  It  was  rapid,  and  barely 
perceptible,  but  the  still  small  flutter  of  life  was  there. 

He  opened  the  verandah  door,  where  Amar  Singh  and 
a  very  aggrieved  Aberdeen  terrier  had  sat  since  morning, 
and  issued  a  swift  order  for  hot  water,  mustard,  warm 
turpentine ;  a  grim  repetition  of  the  battle  he  had  fought 
out  a  week  ago.  But  now  he  fought  single-handed,  while 
Amar  Singh  and  a  small  tremulous  ayah,  crouching  be- 
side a  charcoal  brazier  in  the  verandah,  kept  up  a  steady 
supply  of  his  primitive  needs. 

Thus  James  Mackay  found  him  on  his  return ;  skill 
doggedly  applying  friction  and  restoratives  without  hav- 
ing made  an  inch  of  progress  for  his  pains.  Darkness 
had  fallen  by  now,  and  the  one  lamp,  set  well  away  from 


252  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

the  bed,  made  a  pallid  oasis  in  its  own  vicinity.  Desmond 
had  flung  aside  his  coat,  and  his  thin  shirt  clung  in 
patches  to  his  damp  body.  His  face  was  set  in  rigid 
lines ;  and  the  little  doctor,  who  carried  a  heart  of  flesh 
under  a  porcupine  exterior,  was  haunted  for  days  by  the 
despair  in  his  eyes. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  at  it,  man  ? "  he  asked  with- 
out preamble. 

"  A  lifetime,  I  should  say.     Possibly  an  hour." 

"  No  change  at  all  ?  " 

"  Not  the  slightest.     But  I  know  .  .  she's  alive." 

Mackay  scrutinised  the  awful  stillness  on  the  bed. 

"We  must  try  hypodermic  injection,"  he  said  gently. 
"And  in  the  meantime  .  .  ."  he  went  over  to  a  table 
strewn  with  sick-room  paraphernalia,  and  poured  out  half 
a  pint  of  champagne,  "  you'll  please  drink  that." 

And  as  Desmond  obeyed  automatically,  his  hand  shook 
so  that  the  edge  of  the  tumbler  rattled  against  his  teeth. 
The  body  was  beginning  to  assert  itself  at  last.  But  the 
stinging  liquid  revived  him ;  and  in  a  silence,  broken  only 
by  an  abrupt  direction  or  request  from  the  Scotchman, 
the  last  available  resources  were  tried  again  and  yet 
again,  without  result.  Finally  Mackay  looked  up,  and 
Desmond  read  the  verdict  in  his  eyes. 

"My  dear  man,  it's  no  use,"  he  said  simply.  "She's 
beyond  our  reach  now." 

Desmond's  lips  whitened :  but  he  braced  his  shoulders. 
"  She's  not.  I  don't  believe  it,"  he  answered,  on  a  tone- 
less note  of  decision.  And  the  other  knew  that  only  the 
slow  torture  of  the  night-watches  could  brand  the  truth 
into  his  brain. 

With  a  gesture  of  weariness,  infinitely  pathetic,  he 
turned  back  to  the  bed,  and  bending  down,  mechanically 
rearranged  the  sheet,  and  smoothed  a  crease  or  two  out 
of  the  pillow.  The  bowed  back  and  shoulders,  despite 
their  suppleness  and  strength,  had  in  them  a  pathos  too 
deep  for  tears:  and  Mackay,  feeling  himself  dismissed, 
went  noiselessly  out. 

For  a  long  moment  Desmond's  unnatural  stoicism  held 
firm.  Then,  deep  down  in  him,  something  seemed  to 
snap.  With  a  dry,  choking  sob,  he  flung  himself  on  his 


THE    TENTS    OF    ISHMAEL.  253 

knees  beside  the  bed,  and  the  waters  came  in  even  unto 
his  soul. 

It  seemed  a  thing  incredible  that  one  hour  could  hold 
such  a  store  of  anguish.  The  half  of  his  personality,  the 
hidden  life  of  heart  and  spirit,  seemed  dead  already :  and 
in  that  first  shuddering  sense  of  loneliness,  time  was  not. 

A  familiar  choking  sensation  recalled  him  to  outward 
things.  The  punkah  coolie  had  fallen  asleep;  and  in  a 
fever  of  irritation  he  sprang  to  his  feet.  Then  the  thought 
pierced  him :  "  What  on  earth  does  it  matter  .  .  now  ? " 

But  the  trivial  prick  of  discomfort  had,  in  some  inex- 
plicable fashion,  readjusted  the  balance  of  things ;  re- 
awakened the  conviction  that  had  so  strangely  upheld 
him  throughout  the  day ;  and  with  it  the  spirit  of  '  no 
surrender,'  which  was  the  very  essence  of  the  man.  All 
the  tales  he  had  heard  of  cholera  patients  literally  dragged 
from  the  brink  of  the  grave  by  devoted  nursing  crowded 
in  upon  him,  like  reinforcements  backing  up  a  forlorn 
hope,  and  once  again  he  bent  over  his  wife,  caressing  the 
crisp  upward  sweep  of  her  hair. 

"  Honor,  you  shall  live.  By  God,  you  shall ! "  he  whis- 
pered low  in  her  ear,  as  though  her  spirit  could  hear,  and 
take  comfort  from  the  assurance. 

A  downward  jerk  of  the  punkah  rope  set  the  great  frill 
flapping  with  ostentatious  vigour :  and  he  himself  set  to 
work  again  no  less  vigorously;  fighting  death  hand  to 
hand  with  every  weapon  at  command.  He  clung  to  his 
renewed  hope  with  a  desperation  that  was  terrible ;  re- 
alising more  acutely  than  before  that  to  let  go  of  her  was 
to  fall  into  nameless  spaces  void  of  companionship  and 
love.  Once  or  twice  the  flicker  of  the  punkah  frill 
created  an  illusion  of  movement  in  the  face,  and  his  heart 
leapt  into  his  throat,  only  to  sink  to  the  depths  again 
when  he  discoverd  his  mistake.  But  nothing  now  could 
turn  him  from  his  purpose ;  or  quench  that  indomitable 
determination  to  succeed  which  is  one  of  the  strongest 
levers  of  the  world. 

And  at  long -last,  when  persistence  had  begun  to  seem 
mere  folly,  came  the  first  faint  shadow  of  change.  Slowly, 
very  slowly,  her  face  appeared  to  be  losing  the  bluish 


254  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

tinge  of  cholera.  Fearful  lest  imagination  should  be 
cheating  him,  he  fetched  the  lamp,  and  held  it  over  her. 
Unquestionably  the  colour  had  improved. 

The  loose  chimney  rattled  as  he  set  down  the  lamp ; 
and  he  spilled  half  the  brandy  he  tried  to  pour  into  a 
spoon.  Then,  steadying  himself  by  a  supreme  effort,  he 
managed  to  pour  a  little  of  it  between  her  lips,  watching 
with  suspended  breath  for  the  least  sign  of  moisture  at 
the  corners.  A  drop  or  two  trickled  uselessly  out,  but 
the  muscles  of  her  throat  stirred  slightly,  and  the  rest 
was  retained. 

Then  for  a  moment  Desmond  let  himself  go.  With  a 
low  cry  he  leaned  down,  and  slipping  both  arms  under 
her,  pressed  his  lips  upon  her  cold  ones,  long  and  passion- 
ately, as  though  he  would  impart  to  her  the  very  power  of 
his  spirit,  the  living  warmth  of  his  body  and  heart.  And 
at  length,  he  was  aware  of  a  faint  unmistakable  attempt 
to  return  his  pressure.  He  could  have  shouted  for  sheer 
triumph.  It  was  as  if  he  had  created  her  anew.  But 
love,  having  achieved  its  perfect  work,  must  be  kept 
under  subjection  till  the  accepted  moment. 

A  little  more  brandy,  a  little  more  chafing  of  hands 
and  limbs,  and  the  miracle  was  complete.  By  degrees,  as 
imperceptible  as  the  coming  of  dawn,  life  stole  back  in 
response  to  his  touch.  She  stirred,  drew  a  deep  breath, 
and  opened  her  eyes. 

"  Theo,  .  .  is  it  you  ?    Have  I  .  .  got  you  .  .  still  ? " 

It  was  her  own  voice,  clear  and  low,  no  longer  the 
husky  whisper  of  cholera.  The  caress  in  it  penetrated 
like  pain ;  and  tears,  sharp  as  knives,  forced  their  way 
between  his  lids. 

"Yes,  my  darling;  .  .  .  and  I've  got  you  still,"  he  answered, 
his  tenderness  hovering  over  her  like  a  flutter  of  wings. 

"  But  what  happened  ?     I  thought  .  .  ." 

"  Don't  tire  your  dear  head  with  thinking.  By  God's 
mercy,  I  dragged  you  back  from  the  utmost  edge  of 
things ;  and  you've  come  to  stay.  That's  enough  for  me." 

Ten  minutes  later  she  was  sleeping,  lightly  and  natu- 
rally, her  head  nestling  in  the  crook  of  his  elbow,  one 
hand  clinging  to  a  morsel  of  his  shirt ;  while  he  leaned 


THE    TENTS    OF    ISHMAEL.  255 

above  her,  half-sitting,  half-lying  on  the  extreme  edge  of  the 
bed,  not  daring  to  shift  his  strained  position  by  so  much 
as  a  hair's-breadth ;  till  overwhelming  weariness  had  its 
way  with  him,  and  he  slept  also,  his  head  fallen  back 
against  the  wall. 

When  at  last  he  awoke,  a  pale  shaft  of  light  was  feel- 
ing its  way  across  the  room  from  the  long  glass  door  that 
gave  upon  the  verandah.  Outside  in  the  garden  the 
crows  and  squirrels  were  awake,  and  talkative.  The  well- 
wheel  had  begun  its  plaintive  music,  punctuated  with  the 
plash  of  falling  water,  and  the  new  day,  in  a  sheet  of 
flame,  rolled  up  unconcernedly  from  the  other  side  of  the 
world. 

Honor  had  turned  over  in  her  sleep,  leaving  him  free 
to  rise,  and  stretch  himself  exhaustedly  ;  and  as  he  stood 
looking  down  upon  the  night's  achievement,  upon  the 
rhythmical  rise  and  fall  of  his  wife's  breast  beneath  its 
light  covering,  new  fires  were  kindled  in  the  man's  deep 
heart;  new  intimations  of  the  height  and  depth,  and 
power  of  that  '  grand  impulsion,'  which  men  call  Love ; 
and  with  these,  a  new  humility  that  forced  him  down 
upon  his  knees  in  a  wordless  ecstasy  of  thanksgiving. 


CHAPTEE   XXIII. 

"  They  are  one  and  one,  with  a  shadowy  third ; 
One  near  one  is  too  far." 

— BROWNING. 

QUITA  was  troubled. 

A  full  week  had  elapsed  since  that  day  so  strangely 
compounded  of  rapture  and  dread;  of  matter-of-fact 
service,  and  shy,  tender  intimacies  that  had  seemed  to  set 
a  seal  on  the  completeness  of  their  reunion.  Yet,  in  the 
days  that  followed,  she  had  been  increasingly  aware  of  a 
nameless  something,  an  indefinable  constraint  between 
them,  which  instinct  told  her  would  not  have  been  there 
if  conscience  had  surrendered  all  along  the  line. 


256  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

It  was  not  his  mere  avoidance,  after  the  first,  of  caresses 
congenial  to  the  opening  phase  of  marriage  that  dis- 
concerted her.  Such  emotional  reticence  squared  with 
her  idea  of  the  man.  She  would  not  have  had  him  other- 
wise. They  were  sure  of  one  another ;  and  in  both  natures 
passion  was  proud  and  fastidious.  It  could  thrive  with- 
out much  lip-service.  The  undefined  aloofness  that 
troubled  Quita  was  spiritual,  rather  than  physical.  She 
was  conscious  of  walls  within  walls,  separating  her  from 
his  essential  self;  and  behind  these  again  of  an  unob- 
trusive reserve  force,  whose  power  of  endurance  she  could 
not  estimate;  because  her  dealings  with  Michael's  shal- 
lower nature  had  afforded  her  no  experience  of  a  moral 
stability  free  from  the  warp  of  the  personal  equation.  It 
was  as  if  some  intangible  part  of  him,  over  which  she 
could  establish  no  hold,  stood  persistently  afar  off, — 
tormented,  but  immovable. 

She  could  not  know  that  the  form  of  opium  administered 
during  his  illness  had  revived  and  strengthened  temptation 
when  he  himself  was  physically  unfit  to  cope  with  it ;  that 
by  her  impulsive  return  to  him,  at  a  critical  moment,  she 
was  forcing  him  open-eyed  toward  a  catastrophe  more 
lasting,  more  terrible  for  them  both,  than  the  initial  harm 
done  by  her  rejection  of  him  five  years  ago.  Eeserve  and 
self-disgust  made  speech  on  the  subject  seem  a  thing  im- 
possible; while  his  mere  man's  chivalry  shrank  from 
allowing  her  to  guess  that  by  an  act  of  seeming  reparation, 
she  had  run  grave  risk  of  putting  real  reparation  out  of 
her  power.  Once  only  did  the  love  that  consumed  him 
break  through  the  restraint  he  put  upon  himself  in  sheer 
self-defence. 

It  was  the  first  day  he  had  been  allowed  up  at  a  normal 
hour ;  and  coming  into  the  dining-room,  he  had  found  her 
alone  at  her  easel,  near  one  of  the  long  glass  doors.  At 
the  sound  of  his  step  she  turned  her  canvas  round  swiftly, 
and  came  to  him  with  a  glad  lift  of  her  head.  He  took 
her  hands  in  his  big  grasp,  and  kissed  her  forehead. 

"  Good  morning,  lass,"  he  said.  "  You  never  told  me 
you  had  brought  that  with  you.  Couldn't  be  divorced 
from  it,  eh  ?  What's  the  great  work  now  ?  May  I 
see  ? " 


THE    TENTS    OF   ISHMAEL.  257 

"  But  yes,  naturally.  I've  been  keeping  it  as  a  surprise 
for  you.  I  don't  believe  I  should  ever  have  got  through 
this  last  fortnight  without  it.  Voil&  !  " 

She  set  it  facing  him,  and  standing  so  with  her  eyes  on 
the  picture,  waited  eagerly  for  his  word  of  praise.  But  as 
the  seconds  passed,  and  it  did  not  come,  she  turned,  to 
find  him  looking  at  her,  not  at  the  picture;  his  teeth 
tormenting  his  lower  lip ;  a  suspicious  film  dimming  the 
clear  blue  of  his  eyes.  Emboldened  by  this  last  incredible 
phenomenon,  she  came  and  stood  close  to  him,  yet  without 
touching  him. 

"  Darling,  you  do  like  it,  don't  you  ?  I  can't  complete 
it  till  you  give  me  a  few  sittings ;  but  then — it  will  be 
my  masterpiece.  I  shall  never  show  it,  at  home,  though. 
It's  too  much  a  part  of  myself  .  .  .  my  very  inmost 
self." 

And  he  could  not  withhold  the  demonstration  that  such 
a  confession  provoked. 

"  Oh,  my  dear,"  he  said  at  last,  without  releasing  her. 
"  You  made  too  little  of  me  once ;  and  now  you're  making 
too  much.  I'm  not  worth  it  all." 

She  put  a  hand  on  his  lips. 

"  Be  quiet !  I  won't  hear  you  when  you  talk  so.  Look 
properly  at  my  picture  now.  You  haven't  told  me  it's 
good." 

"  Of  course  it's  good.  Amazingly  good.  But  .  .  ."  he 
laughed,  a  short  contented  laugh — "it's  beyond  me  how 
you  could  be  misguided  enough  to  waste  your  remarkable 
talent  in  perpetuating  anything  so  ugly  ! " 

Her  smile  hinted  at  superior  knowledge ;  yet  she  paid 
his  obvious  sincerity  the  compliment  of  not  contradicting 
his  final  statement. 

"  In  the  first  place,  because  I  love  it.  And  in  the  second 
place,  because,  for  all  true  artists,  who  see  in  form  and 
colour  just  a  soul's  attempts  at  self-expression,  there  is 
more  essential  beauty  in  certain  kinds  ...  of  ugliness, 
than  in  the  most  faultless  symmetry  of  lines  and  curves. 
One  is  almost  tempted  to  say  that  there  is  no  such  thing 
as  actual  ugliness ;  that  it  is  all  a  matter  of  understanding, 
of  seeing  deep  enough.  For  instance,  I  find  that  essential 
beauty  I  spoke  of  in  Mrs  Olliver's  face." 

R 


258  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  Ah  ...  so  do  I ;  of  a  rare  quality." 

"  Well  then,  dear  stupid,  allow  me  to  find  it  in  yours 
also!" 

"  One  to  you,"  he  admitted,  smiling.  "  But  now  ...  I 
am  in  your  hands  till  tiffin.  What  are  you  going  to  do 
with  me  ?  Eead  ?  Sing  ?  The  drawing-room's  empty ; 
and  I  haven't  heard  you  since  Kajiar." 

"  Do  you  want  the  Swinburne  again  ? " 

"  No ;  by  no  means." 

"  Why  not  ?     Don't  you  like  the  song  ? " 

"  I  like  it  far  too  well ;  and  I'm  not  strong  enough  yet 
to  stand  a  brutal  assault  upon  my  feelings  !  Come  along, 
and  give  me  something  wholesome  and  simple.  A  con- 
valescent needs  milk  diet  mentally  as  well  as  physically, 
you  know ! " 

This  was  on  one  of  his  best  days.  But  there  were 
others,  —  following  upon  nights  of  sleeplessness,  and 
pain,  and  heart-searching  unspeakable,  only  to  be  allevi- 
ated by  the  one  unfailing  remedy, — when  the  strain  of 
repression  demanded  by  her  constant  presence  so  wrought 
upon  his  nerves  that  he  would  get  up  and  leave  her 
abruptly  without  excuse ;  or  shut  himself  into  his  room 
on  the  empty  pretext  of  revising  manuscript.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  he  spent  most  of  the  time  girding  at  the  deliberate 
waste  of  good  hours;  till  the  consciousness  of  slipping 
deeper  into  the  mire  and  the  dread  of  ultimate  defeat 
became  almost  an  obsession,  aggravated  by  ill-health  and 
want  of  rest. 

Quita,  who  remembered  well  his  inexhaustible  capacity 
for  keeping  still,  was  distressed  and  puzzled  by  these 
moods  of  restlessness  verging  on  irritability,  whose  true 
significance  she  could  not  guess  at ;  though  she  was  woman 
enough  to  know  that  a  position  merely  unsatisfactory  for 
her,  must  be  an  actual  strain  on  him.  And  as  his  strength 
returned,  she  could  only  hope  from  day  to  day  for  some 
allusion  to  the  possibility  of  moving  into  their  own 
bungalow ;  since  it  was  clear  that  they  could  not  remain 
with  the  Desmonds  for  ever !  Pride  and  delicacy  alike 
withheld  her  from  the  lightest  mention  of  the  subject.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  she  had  transgressed  sufficiently  in 
both  respects  already.  Yet,  as  the  days  accumulated  to  a 


THE   TENTS   OF    ISHMAEL.  259 

week,  and   still   he   said   no   word,   she   grew   definitely 
anxious  to  know  what  was  going  to  happen  next. 

But,  with  all  its  drawbacks  and  difficulties,  this  week  of 
intimate  everyday  companionship  had  been  one  of  the 
best  weeks  in  her  life.  It  had  served,  above  all  things,  to 
establish  her  conviction  that  the  husband  she  had  chosen, 
by  a  lightning  instinct  of  the  brain  rather  than  the 
heart,  was  in  all  respects  a  man  among  men.  He  appealed 
to  the  artist  in  her  by  a  natural  dignity  and  distinction  of 
person  and  character,  by  a  suggestion  of  volcanic  forces 
warring  with  the  ascetic  strain  in  him  yet  steadfastly 
controlled;  and  above  all,  by  a  superb  simplicity  and 
unconsciousness  of  self,  that  draws  introspective  tempera- 
ments as  infallibly  as  the  moon  draws  the  sea. 

And  apart  from  her  joy  in  him,  she  was  keenly  alive 
to  her  surroundings ;  to  the  practical  work  going  on  about 
her ;  to  the  stimulating  contact  with  a  new  type,  a  new 
atmosphere.  At  first  she  saw  little  of  outsiders,  or  indeed 
of  any  one  besides  her  husband.  John  Meredith  came 
over  every  day ;  Wyndham,  though  still  living  in  the 
house,  had  gone  back  to  duty;  while  Desmond  —  after 
one  day  of  complete  collapse,  when  Frank  revenged  her- 
self on  him  by  monopolising  Honor — had  taken  up  his 
work  again  with  heightened  zest,  and  devoted  every 
spare  hour  to  his  wife.  But  the  four  met  at  meals,  and 
in  the  evening,  when  Quita  kept  all  three  men  alert  and 
amused  by  her  intelligent  questionings,  her  frank  interest 
in  every  detail  of  her  new  profession,  as  it  pleased  her 
to  call  it. 

Before  the  week  was  out  her  pocket  note  -  book  con- 
tained a  small  portrait  -  gallery  of  studies  in  pencil 
and  water-colour.  She  sketched  Desmond's  old  Sikh 
Kessaldar,  with  his  finely  carved  features,  deep  eyes,  and 
vast  lop-sided  blue  and  gold  turban ;  and  Desmond  himself 
in  the  white  uniform  and  long  boots,  which  so  greatly 
pleased  her,  occupied  several  pages. 

Mounted  on  Shaitan's  successor,  she  rode  down  with 
him  twice  to  early  parade ;  and  sat  entranced  through 
the  whole  proceeding;  watching  the  long  lines  of  men 
and  horses  sweeping  across  the  open  plain,  wheeling, 
retiring,  advancing,  changing  formation  with  exquisite 


260  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

and  instantaneous  precision,  in  response  to  Meredith's 
brisk  words  of  command  ;  while  massed  lance-heads  and 
steel  shoulder  -  chains  flashed  and  winked  in  the  level 
light. 

It  was  her  first  experience  of  meeting  soldiers  in  the 
mass,  on  their  own  ground,  and  the  man  who  has  faced 
death  and  dealt  it  out  to  others  appeals  irresistibly  to 
the  fundamental  barbaric  in  women.  To  this  fascination, 
Quita  added  the  artist's  reverence  for  the  men  who  '  do 
things,'  as  opposed  to  the  men  who  record  or  express 
them. 

She  enlarged  on  the  subject  at  breakfast  one  morning, 
in  her  usual  direct  fashion;  but  Desmond  would  have 
none  of  it. 

"  Eemember,  Quita,"  said  he,  "  that  an  artist,  in  the  in- 
clusive sense,  when  he  is  worth  anything,  stands  for  the 
strongest  thing  in  the  world  ...  an  idea." 

Her  face  brightened  with  interest. 

"  That's  true.  But  unhappily  great  art  doesn't  neces- 
sarily imply  great  character,  and  great  action  does.  That's 
why  the  world's  heroes  have  nearly  always  been  men  of 
action ;  and  always  will  be." 

"  Ah,  now  you've  given  yourself  away  neatly!"  Desmond 
cried,  like  a  great  schoolboy.  "  Where  would  your  heroes 
be  a  hundred  years  after  their  death,  but  for  the  men  who 
immortalise  them  on  canvas,  and  in  print  ?  Would  the 
effect  of  their  noble  living  be  one-half  as  far-reaching,  if 
it  remained  unrecorded  ?  It's  no  case  for  comparison,  any 
more  than  the  eternal  man  and  woman  question.  They 
are  diverse ;  and  the  world  has  equal  need  of  both.  So 
there's  consolation  for  us  all ! " 

"  Well  played,  Desmond ! "  Lenox  remarked,  smiling 
and  nodding  across  the  table  at  his  wife. 

"I  surrender  at  discretion,"  she  admitted  sweetly. 
"  But  still,  being  an  artist,  I  take  off  my  hat  to  men  of 
action,  and  always  shall." 

"  Good  luck  for  the  men  of  action  ! "  Desmond  retorted, 
with  an  amused  glance  at  Lenox,  as  they  rose  from  the 
table. 

By  now  cholera  and  fever  were  dying  out  slowly,  like 


THE   TENTS    OF   ISHMAEL.  261 

spent  tires.  The  Infantry  had  come  in  from  camp ;  and 
the  Battery  was  expected  back  shortly,  only  two  fresh 
cases  having  occurred.  Then,  as  Honor  began  to  mend, 
people  dropped  in  again  at  tea-time,  eager  for  news  of 
her;  and  Quita  discovered  how  widely  and  deeply  she  was 
beloved.  Little  Mrs  Peters  disappeared  behind  a  very 
crumpled  handkerchief  while  trying  to  express  her 
feelings ;  and  the  Chicken  blew  his  nose  vigorously  when 
Quita  announced  that  Honor  would  soon  be  allowed  into 
the  drawing-room  for  tea. 

She  was  getting  used  to  her  new  name  now.  Officers 
of  all  ranks  came  to  call  on  her  as  a  '  bride ' ;  an  embar- 
rassing attention  which  she  would  gladly  have  dispensed 
with  in  the  circumstances,  since  Eldred  basely  deserted 
her  on  each  occasion ;  and  she  was  introduced  to  Norton, 
who  inspected  her  critically  and  flagrantly,  as  a  possible 
stumbling-block  to  a  promising  career.  Altogether,  she 
was  beginning  to  see  India  in  a  new  perspective.  Hith- 
erto, in  her  aimless  wanderings  with  Michael,  she  had 
merely  looked  on  at  its  vast  and  varied  panorama  of  life ; 
had  studied  it  with  the  detached  interest  of  the  outsider. 
Now  she  felt  herself  absorbed  into  the  brotherhood  of 
those  who  worked  and  suffered  for  the  great  country  of 
her  husband's  service ;  who  were  as  flies  on  the  wheels  of 
its  complex  mechanism ;  and  who  heartily  loved  or  hated 
it,  as  the  case  might  be. 

At  last,  after  a  week  of  devoted  nursing,  Honor  was 
allowed  to  make  her>first  appearance  in  the  drawing- 
room  ;  and  Desmond  invited  a  '  select  few '  to  tea  for  the 
occasion.  Wyndham  stood  alone  on  the  hearth-rug  when 
she  entered,  her  husband  supporting  her  with  his  arm. 
She  was  visibly  thinner;  and  her  face  was  almost  as 
colourless  as  the  sweeping  folds  of  her  tea-gown.  Other- 
wise her  beauty  had  reasserted  itself  triumphantly ;  and 
Wyndham  caught  his  breath  as  he  came  towards  her. 

She  gave  him  both  her  hands;  and  he  held  them  closely 
for  a  long  moment.  Then,  obeying  a  rare  and  imperative 
impulse,  he  bent  down  and  touched  them  with  his  lips. 
A  faint  colour  tinged  Honor's  cheeks.  "  Dear  Paul,"  she 
said  under  her  breath :  and  Desmond,  leading  her  to  the 
sofa,  established  her  in  a  nest  of  cushions,  with  a  light 


262  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

covering  for  her  feet,  just  as  Quita  and  Lenox  came  in, 
closely  followed  by  Max  Richardson  in  uniform. 

He  had  come  in  from  camp  not  an  hour  ago ;  and  had 
ridden  over  without  changing,  in  his  zeal  to  shake  hands 
with  Lenox  and  his  wife.  The  former  had  endured  his 
congratulations  and  delight  at  the  news  with  the  best 
grace  he  could  muster ;  and  had  avoided  a  word  with  him 
alone.  Now  he  drew  up  a  chair  and  sat  down  by  Honor : 
while  Quita,  pricked  to  a  passing  jealousy  by  his  instant 
gravitation  to  her,  moved  off  with  Max  Richardson,  talking 
and  laughing  as  if  she  had  known  him  for  years.  It  was 
not  her  habit  to  waste  time  in  preliminaries. 

"They'll  get  on  splendidly,  those  two,"  Honor  said, 
smiling  as  she  watched  them. 

"I'll  be  glad  if  they  do,"  Lenox  answered  without 
enthusiasm;  and  her  eyes  scanned  his  face. 

"  You  aren't  getting  on  splendidly,  though.  You  look 
worn  to  a  shadow.  I'm  afraid  it's  been  difficult." 

"  Hideously  difficult." 

"And  you  ought  both  to  be  so  happy,  now  of  all 
times  .  .  ." 

"  Yes.     That's  the  exquisitely  refined  torment  of  it." 

"  You  haven't  been  sleeping  ? " 

"  No  .  .  .  nothing  to  speak  of.  But  don't  give  yourself 
a  headache  on  my  account,  dear  lady.  Desmond  would 
never  forgive  me !  I'm  a  tough  customer.  I  shall  pull 
through  somehow." 

"  If  you  could  only  bring  yourself  to  talk  it  over  with 
Theo,"  she  urged  in  a  lower  tone,  as  he  came  towards  them 
with  Mrs  Peters,  who  flung  shyness  to  the  winds,  and 
fairly  took  Honor's  breath  away  by  kissing  her  on  both 
cheeks. 

Desmond's  '  select  few '  amounted  to  less  than  a  dozen. 
Honor's  sofa  was  the  centre  of  attraction ;  and  her  sym- 
pathetic spirit  thrilled  in  response  to  the  friendliness  that 
glowed,  like  a  jewel,  at  the  heart  of  everyday  talk  and 
laughter.  For  the  past  fortnight  of  pain  and  stress  seemed 
to  have  drawn  them  all  indefinably  closer  to  one  another : 
which  is  the  true  mission  of  pain  and  stress  in  this  very 
human  world. 

Later  in  the  evening  there  were  light  sports  on  the 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  263 

Cavalry  parade-ground,  which  Meredith,  Desmond,  and 
Olliver  were  bound  to  attend ;  Wyndham  and  half  a  dozen 
others  remaining  behind. 

Courtenay,  on  his  way  to  the  door,  remarked  to  Lenox 
that  a  short  outing  would  do  him  no  harm;  and  Quita, 
who  chanced  to  be  standing  at  his  elbow,  pressed  lightly 
against  him. 

"  Drive  me  down,  dear,"  she  said  softly.  "  I  should  love 
it."  And  since  he  had  avoided  her  for  the  greater  part 
of  the  morning,  he  could  not  well  refuse. 

"  I  like  your  '  Dick,'  Eldred,"  she  informed  him,  as  they 
bowled  along  the  wide  straight  road.  "He  is  Ion garqon, 
through  and  through.  Not  brilliant,  perhaps :  but  quick, 
appreciative,  and  he  can  talk." 

"Yes:  Dick's  a  real  good  sort.  Glad  you  approve  of 
him.  And  as  for  talking  .  . .  you  could  draw  conversation 
out  of  a  stone  wall !  " 

"I  don't  always  succeed  with  the  one  I  am  leaning 
against  just  now ! " 

"Well,  I'll  swear  it's  not  your  fault  if  you  fail,"  he 
answered,  smiling  down  upon  her  with  such  unfathom- 
able sadness  in  his  eyes,  that  she  cried  out  involuntarily, 
between  vexation  and  despair — 

"  Oh,  mon  Dieu,  is  it  always  going  to  be  like  this  between 
us  ?  Is  there  nothing  I  can  do  to  make  you  happy  again  ? " 
"  Nothing  just  at  present,  worse  luck,"  he  said  grimly, 
looking  straight  ahead  :  for  in  the  face  of  such  an  appeal 
he  could  hardly  confess  his  desperate  need  to  be  left  alone. 
"  It's  a  question  of  time,  as  I  told  you,  and  my  own  strength 
of  will.  But  if  the  situation  becomes  too  intolerable  for 
you,  there  is  always  the  last  resort  of  overstepping  the 
limit,  and  setting  you  free  for  good." 

Quita  could  not  know  how  cruelly  ill  he  had  slept  since 
her  coming,  nor  how  little  a  man  tortured  by  insomnia 
can  be  held  responsible  for  his  utterances ;  and  the  sig- 
nificance of  his  last  words  so  startled  her  that  she  clutched 
his  arm. 

"Eldred  .  .  .  Eldred,  promise  me  you'll  never  even  think 
of  such  a  thing  .  .  .  never ! " 

He  winced  under  her  touch.  "  Quita,  remember  where 
we  are,"  he  said  sharply ;  and  she  dropped  her  hand. 


264  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  But  all  the  same,  promise  me  .  .  what  I  asked ;  or  I 
shall  never  have  an  easy  moment." 

"  It  might  come  to  seem  the  kindest  thing  one  could  do 
for  you,"  he  persisted,  still  without  looking  at  her.  But 
fear  gave  her  courage  to  strike  deep  while  the  chance  of 
speech  was  hers. 

"  It  would  never  be  anything  less  than  an  act  of  cruelty 
and  cowardice.  Kemember  that.  I  am  ready  to  put  up 
with  everything  .  .  .  everything  rather  than  lose  you, 
now." 

"  If  that's  the  truth,  lass,"  he  said  with  sudden  gentle- 
ness, "  you  may  set  your  mind  at  rest.     I  promise." 
"  Thank  you,  mm  cher." 

Then  they  fell  silent  till  the  parade-ground  came  in 
sight. 

This,  their  first  appearance  together  in  public,  was 
something  of  an  ordeal  to  both ;  and  at  the  last  minute 
Quita's  courage  evaporated. 

"  Eldred  .  .  .  stop,  please,"  she  said  suddenly.  "  I'm 
shy  of  them  all;  and  I  don't  want  to  talk  to  them 
just  now." 

"  Thank  the  Lord  for  that ! "  he  answered  so  fervently, 
that  they  both  laughed  aloud  ;  and  there  is  nothing  like 
laughter  for  clearing  the  air. 

"  Take  me  for  a  drive,"  she  suggested.  "  Show  me  your 
bungalow  .  .  .  our  bungalow,  will  you  ? " 

He  hesitated.  It  seemed  he  was  only  to  exchange  one 
ordeal  for  another.  "  It's  a  ramshackle,  comfortless  place, 
Quita,"  he  objected.  "  Wouldn't  it  be  better  to  wait  till  .  . 
till  I  can  have  it  decently  fitted  up  for  you  ?  Or  you  might 
like  to  pick  another  one." 

"  But  no.     I  want  that  one  ;  and  I  want  to  see  it  first 
just  as  you  lived  in  it,  please." 
"  Very  well.     If  you  wish  it." 

An  officious  chowkidar  opened  doors  for  them  with  a 
great  clatter  of  bolts,  and  an  elaborate  air  of  being  very 
much  on  the  spot;  and  they  stepped  straight  from  the 
verandah  into  the  one  room  Lenox  had  furnished  besides 
the  bedroom.  It  looked  desolate,  and  smelt  uninhabited ; 
but  Quita  inspected  the  horns,  the  rugs,  the  sketches,  even 
the  handful  of  books  left  on  the  writing-table,  with  eager 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  265 

interest :  and  Eldred,  stationed  on  the  hearth-rug,  answered 
her  running  fire  of  questions  a  little  vaguely,  because  he 
was  listening  more  intently  to  her  voice  than  to  what  it 
said! 

Suddenly  his  thoughts  were  checked  by  a  vivid  sense  of 
having  lived  through  this  identical  scene  before ;  of  stand- 
ing near  a  fireplace  watching  her  light-hearted  explora- 
tions. But  where?  When?  Then,  like  a  dash  of  cold 
water,  came  enlightenment.  It  was  at  the  Eiffel  Alp 
Hotel,  on  the  day  of  their  wedding ;  and  the  bitterness  of 
the  lost  years  between,  with  their  final  heritage  of  evil, 
flowed  over  him  like  the  sluggish  waters  of  a  dead  sea. 

Quita  was  hesitating  on  the  threshold  of  the  bedroom 
now ;  and  an  insane  conviction  came  upon  him  that  if  she 
went  in  there  he  would  lose  her  again,  as  on  that  earlier 
day.  It  was  all  sheer  brain-sickness,  and  lack  of  sleep, 
but  at  the  moment  it  was  horribly  real. 

"  May  one  look  at  the  other  rooms  too  ? "  she  asked.  "  I 
want  to  see  which  would  do  best  for  my  studio ! " 

"Look  into  every  hole  and  corner,  if  it  amuses  you, 
dearest,"  he  answered ;  but  made  no  attempt  to  accompany 
her. 

When  at  last  she  reappeared,  the  nightmare  feeling  took 
him  afresh.  He  felt  certain  she  would  come  straight  up 
to  him,  and  lay  hold  of  the  lapels  of  his  coat.  And  this 
she  actually  did  ;  lifting  a  glowing  face  to  his. 

"  Eldred,"  she  began,  exactly  as  before  .  .  .  and  it  was 
more  than  he  could  stand.  The  oppression  of  her  nearness 
set  the  blood  rushing  in  his  ears ;  and  taking  her  hands 
from  their  resting-place  he  put  her  from  him,  almost  an 
arm's-length,  as  though  the  better  to  look  into  her  eyes. 

"Well?"  he  asked,  with  an  attempt  at  lightness  that 
rang  false.  "Is  your  Highness  quite  satisfied  with 
it  all?" 

But  she  was  not  to  be  deceived.  Her  cheeks  flamed ; 
and  she  almost  snatched  away  her  hands. 

"Yes.  I  am  quite  satisfied,"  she  said,  in  a  changed 
voice.  "And  I  think  it's  high  time  we  went  back." 

Then  she  left  him,  a  shade  too  rapidly  for  dignity,  and 
sprang  into  the  cart,  before  he  could  get  near  enough  to 
help  her  up. 


266  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"Quita  .  .  .  why  did  you  do  that?  What's  wrong?" 
he  asked,  lamely  enough  as  he  gathered  up  the  reins. 

"Need  you  add  insult  to  injury  by  asking  that?"  she 
flashed  out,  angry  tears  pricking  her  eyeballs.  "I'm 
wrong.  You're  wrong.  Everything's  wrong.  I  ought  never 
to  have  come  here  .  .  .  before  I  was  wanted." 

He  made  no  comment  on  that.  It  was  not  a  question 
to  be  discussed  in  the  open  road,  with  a  saw  jogging  on  the 
tail-board  behind ;  and  no  more  was  said  till  they  reached 
home. 

Then,  as  Eldred  pressed  the  reins  under  the  clip,  he 
said  in  a  quiet  tone  of  command :  "  Stay  where  you  are, 
please,  till  I  can  get  round."  And  for  all  the  rebellion  in 
her  blood,  she  obeyed. 

He  lifted  her  out  bodily,  and  drew  her  into  the  hall.  It 
was  empty  and  almost  dark :  and  before  she  guessed  his 
intent,  his  lips  had  touched  hers  lightly,  with  a  quick  sigh 
that  told  of  passion  held  in  check.  But  she  broke  away 
from  him,  unappeased,  and  shut  herself  into  her  room. 

She  was  relieved  to  find  that  a  sprinkling  of  the  tea 
party — the  Ollivers,  Norton,  and  Eichardson — had  stayed 
to  dinner.  Olliver  was  her  partner ;  and  evinced  his  ap- 
preciation of  the  fact  by  chaffing  her  laboriously  through- 
out the  meal ;  the  one  form  of  conversation  she  frankly 
detested. 

But  Kichardson  sat  on  her  right,  and,  in  Olliver's 
phraseology,  "  made  the  running  with  her  all  the  time." 
For  good,  single-hearted  Max  frankly  admired  her.  His 
conscience  pricked  him  more  acutely  than  it  had  yet 
done  at  thought  of  his  own  responsibility  for  the  wasted 
years;  and  he  longed  for  a  chance  to  say  as  much  to 
his  friend.  But  Lenox  was  not  in  a  mood  to  talk  about 
his  wife;  and  Richardson  got  no  word  in  private  with 
him  throughout  the  evening. 

Frank  Olliver  left  early ;  and  as  Desmond  half-lifted 
his  wife  from  the  sofa,  Quita  came  up  and  said  good- 
night also.  She  had  been  watching  these  two  with 
reawakened  interest  throughout  the  afternoon  and  even- 
ing, and  wondering  whether  she  and  Eldred  could  ever 
arrive  at  such  perfect  community  of  heart  and  mind. 
In  passing  her  husband,  she  laid  butterfly  finger-tips 


THE   TENTS   OF    ISHMAEL.  267 

upon  his  coat  -  sleeve.  "  Good  -  night,  mon  ami,"  she 
said,  just  framing  the  words  with  her  lips  :  and  before 
he  could  get  a  square  look  at  her,  she  was  gone. 

When  the  three  men  were  left  alone,  Wyndham  drank 
his  '  peg '  standing,  and  departed ;  but  Desmond  took 
Lenox  by  the  arm. 

"  Come  into  the  dufta1  for  half  an  hour,"  he  said.  "  I've 
hardly  spoken  to  you  since  Monday ;  and  I  think  we  have 
a  thing  or  two  to  talk  over." 

Lenox  submitted  with  a  smile  of  resigned  amusement; 
and  the  study  door  closed  behind  them. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

"  I  dare  not  swerve 

From  my  soul's  rights ;  a  slave,  though  serving  thee. 
I  but  forbear  more  nobly  to  deserve ; 

The  free  gift  only  cometh  of  the  free." 

— 0.  MEREDITH. 

"  WELL,  old  chap  ? " 

Lenox  tried  to  speak  carelessly;  to  evade  the  inevitable; 
for  he  was  sore,  with  the  twofold  soreness  of  insomnia  and 
thwarted  passion  ;  and  when  all  a  man's  nerves  are  laid 
bare,  he  naturally  dreads  a  touch  in  the  wrong  place : — 
hence  irascibility.  To  any  one  else  he  would  have  pre- 
sented an  impenetrable  curtain  of  reserve,  of  ironical 
refusal  to  admit  that  anything  was  wrong.  But  Des- 
mond had  the  man's  tenderness,  which  is  sometimes 
greater  than  the  woman's :  and,  as  Quita  had  once  said, 
he  was  privileged,  simply  by  being  what  he  was. 

Having  set  glasses  and  spirit-decanter  within  reach  of 
their  two  chairs,  he  came  over  to  Lenox,  and  set  both 
hands  on  his  shoulders. 

"  My  dear  fellow,  it's  no  use  shirking  facts,"  he  said 
straightly.  "  You're  only  flesh  and  blood ;  and  the  strain 
of  all  this  is  just  knocking  you  to  pieces  again.  No  re- 
flection on  your  wife.  You  know  what  I  mean  ? " 

1  Study. 


268  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  Yes.  I  know  very  well  what  you  mean."  Lenox 
spoke  with  repressed  bitterness.  "  I  once  heard  hell 
defined  as  disqualification  in  the  face  of  opportunity." 

Desmond  turned  back  to  the  table,  and  helped  himself 
to  a  fresh  cigar.  "Are  you  so  dead  certain  about  the 
disqualification  ? "  he  asked  without  looking  up :  and  he 
heard  Lenox  grind  his  teeth. 

"  Oh  Lord,  man,  if  you're  going  on  that  tack,  I'm  off." 

"  Indeed  you're  not.  There's  a  deal  more  to  be  said. 
As  far  as  I  understand  matters,  I  imagine  that  your 
wife's  coming  here  makes  a  decided  difference  in  regard 
to — ultimate  possibilities  ? " 

"  Yes ;  that's  just  it.  She  has  cut  away  the  ground 
from  under  my  feet  on  all  sides."  He  was  thinking  of 
his  promise  that  afternoon,  and  his  voice  lost  its  schooled 
hardness.  "  She's  set  on  going  through  with  things,  at 
any  price.  But  then  .  .  she  doesn't  realise  .  .  ." 

"  Believe  me,  it  wouldn't  make  the  smallest  difference 
if  she  did.  Women  are  made  that  way,  to  our  eternal 
good  fortune.  Their  capacity  for  loving  us  in  spite  of 
what  we  are  is  a  thing  to  go  down  on  one's  knees  for. 
You'll  appreciate  it,  one  of  these  days,  if  you  haven't 
done  so  already." 

"  Appreciate  it  ?  Great  Scott,  Desmond,  haven't  I  ten 
times  more  cause  to  do  so  than  you  can  ever  have  had  ? 
But  that  doesn't  wipe  out  facts  or  principles." 

He  left  the  hearth-rug,  and  paced  the  room  in  restless 
agitation.  Desmond  sat  down,  lit  his  cigar,  and  waited. 
His  own  suggestion  could  best  be  made  if  Lenox  could  be 
induced  to  unburden  himself  a  little  first.  Presently  he 
sat  on  the  edge  of  the  writing-table,  well  out  of  range  of 
the  lamp ;  stretched  out  his  long  legs,  and  folded  his  arms. 

"  By  rights,  I  suppose  I  ought  to  have  let  her  go  back 
to  Dalhousie  at  once.  She  suggested  it  herself.  But 
it  seemed  too  brutal;  and  I  wasn't  up  to  the  wrench 
of  letting  her  go  just  then.  Besides,  there  was  your 
wife's  illness.  It  would  have  been  out  of  the  question. 
And  now  I'm  in  a  bigger  hole  than  before.  We  are 
living  at  cross  purposes.  She  sees  I'm  holding  back ; 
and  she's  puzzled,  and  unhappy.  But  how  the  deuce  is 
a  man  to  tell  her  plainly  that  by  an  act  of  pure  pluck 


THE   TENTS    OF    ISHMAEL.  269 

and  devotion,  at  the  wrong  moment,  she  has  practically 
pushed  me  deeper  into  the  pit  than  I've  been  yet?  In 
fact,  I'm  beginning  to  be  afraid  that  .  .  .  the  damage 
may  be  permanent." 

Desmond  stifled  an  exclamation  of  dismay. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  could  bring  yourself  to  tell  me  exactly 
what  you  mean  by  that  ? "  he  said  quietly.  "  Perhaps  I 
have  no  business  to  ask ;  but  unless  one  goes  to  the  root 
of  a  thing  it's  useless  to  talk  of  it  at  all." 

"  I  know  that.  If  I  hadn't  meant  to  tell  you,  I 
shouldn't  be  in  here  now.  The  fact  is  .  .  it's  gone  a 
good  bit  beyond  tobacco  this  last  fortnight."  He  hesi- 
tated :  but  Desmond  made  no  sign.  "  Did  you  never 
miss  that  bottle  of  chlorodyne  you  brought  me  the  day 
I  was  bowled  over?" 

This  time  Desmond  started. 

"  Good  heavens,  yes !  I  had  to  get  a  fresh  one  .  .  for 
Honor.  But  it  never  occurred  to  me  .  .  ." 

"It  wouldn't.  You're  not  the  sort.  I  emptied  it, 
though,  in  no  time.  But  it's  poor  stuff.  It  didn't  half 
work.  Then,  one  night  —  I  was  mad  with  pain,  and 
want  of  sleep  —  I  got  hold  of  the  raw  drug,  in  pellets 
— from  the  bazaar."  He  shivered  at  the  recollection :  "  I 
tell  you,  Desmond,  it's  appalling  to  feel  the  foundations  of 
things  giving  way.  But  I've  taken  it  ever  since,  .  .  pain 
or  no. — Now  do  you  doubt  the  disqualification  I  spoke 
of  ?  Personally  I  don't  feel  fit  to  touch  her  hand." 

The  bitterness  of  conviction  in  his  tone  made  Desmond 
lean  forward  to  get  a  better  sight  of  him. 

"  Lenox,  old  man,"  he  said,  almost  tenderly,  "  such  ex- 
aggerated notions  are  all  a  part  of  your  unsettled  nerves. 
— Smash  up  your  devil's  box  of  pills ;  or  .  .  hand  it  over 
to  me  .  .  if  you  will  .  .  .  ? " 

Lenox  hesitated ;  but  his  face  gave  no  sign  of  the  short 
sharp  struggle  within.  "  You  shall  have  the  thing,  if  you 
wish  it,"  he  said  at  length.  "  It  gives  me  no  pleasure  to 
make  a  beast  of  myself.  But  that  doesn't  touch  the  heart 
of  the  difficulty.  So  long  as  she's  here,  I  haven't  a  chance. 
If  I  give  up  the  stuff,  I  shall  go  to  pieces  with  headache 
and  insomnia.  That's  flat." 

"  Indeed  I  think  you're  mistaken."     Desmond  spoke 


270  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

with  deliberate  lightness.  "  At  all  events,  I  have  a  sug- 
gestion to  make  that  may  help  you  .  .  for  the  moment. 
I  have  quite  decided  that  Honor  must  leave  this,  directly 
she  is  strong  enough  to  stand  the  short  journey  to  Sheik 
Budeen ;  probably  in  three  or  four  days ;  and  after  a  week 
or  two  there,  she  must  go  on  to  Dalhousie  till  September. 
Can  you  see  a  chink  of  daylight  now  ? " 

"  Why,  naturally.  You  want  Quita  to  go  up  with  her  ? 
A  capital  notion ! " 

His  eagerness  was  an  unconscious  revelation  of  all  that 
he  had  endured. 

"  Yes.  I  want  you  to  tell  her,  from  me,  that  she  would 
be  doing  us  both  a  very  real  kindness.  Honor  would 
break  her  poor  heart  alone  at  Sheik  Budeen ;  and  if  you 
put  it  to  Quita  that  way,  I  don't  think  she  will  take  your 
suggestion  amiss." 

"  I'm  positive  she  won't.     I'll  speak  to  her  to-morrow." 

He  got  up  ;  squared  his  shoulders,  with  a  great  sigh  of 
relief ;  helped  himself  to  whisky-and-soda ;  and  emptied 
half  the  tumbler  at  a  draught. 

"By  Jove,  Desmond,  you've  put  fresh  spirit  into  me. 
This  will  give  me  a  chance  to  tight  the  thing  squarely ; 
and  I  hope  to  God  I  may  succeed, — even  yet." 

"  Of  course  you'll  succeed.  We  may  take  that  for 
granted,"  Desmond  answered,  smiling.  "  You've  won  the 
great  talisman  that  puts  failure  out  of  the  question.  As 
soon  as  we  are  officially  through  with  the  cholera,  you 
should  take  sick  leave,  and  go  off  into  the  hills.  You'll 
not  fight  to  any  purpose,  till  you're  in  sound  health  again." 

"  How  about  Dick,  though  ?     It's  his  turn  for  leave." 

"  He'll  survive  missing  it.  He's  in  splendid  condition  ; 
and  this  is  a  life -and -death  matter  for  you.  Besides, 
Courtenay  will  never  let  you  start  duty  till  you've  been 
away.  '  Dick '  can  take  fifteen  days  when  you  get  back." 

"  Poor  chap !  But  I'm  afraid  that's  the  only  programme 
possible." 

He  sat  down  at  last ;  and  for  a  time  they  smoked  con- 
tentedly ;  then  Lenox  drew  a  letter  from  his  breast- 
pocket. 

"  From  Sir  Henry  Forsyth  at  Simla,"  he  explained, 
"  about  my  chances  up  Gilgit  way.  If  we  decide  on  re- 


THE   TENTS    OP    ISHMAEL.  271 

establishing  the  Agency  there,  he  evidently  counts  on 
sending  me  up  again,  with  young  Travers  as  my  Assistant. 
He  and  I  have  done  some  decent  work  together  in  that 
part  of  the  world.  Nothing  I  should  like  better,  of  course. 
But  .  .  in  the  face  of  recent  developments,  I  swear  I 
don't  know  how  to  answer  him." 

He  handed  the  letter  to  Desmond,  who  read  it  and 
looked  thoughtful. 

"  If  you  get  this  chance,  I  think  you  must  take  it,"  he 
said.  "  With  your  special  knowledge,  you'd  be  the  right 
man  in  the  right  place,  up  there :  and  apart  from  your 
own  ambition,  you  owe  something  to  India,  after  what 
you've  done  already." 

Lenox  sighed. 

"  I  owe  something  to  my  wife  also.  You'd  be  the  last 
to  deny  that. — Jove,  it's  amazing  what  a  fine  crop  of  com- 
plications will  grow  out  of  one  false  step.  A  little  want 
of  frankness  on  her  part ;  a  little  over-hastiness  on  mine  ; 
.  .  and  see  where  we've  travelled  in  consequence.  All 
my  work  in  the  past  five  years  has  been  tending  towards 
something  of  this  kind.  But  it  would  never  do  .  .  for 
Quita.  Think  what  a  life  for  a  woman,  even  if  one  could 
hope  to  have  her  there  in  time.  Shut  up  in  the  heart 
of  the  hills,  with  half  a  dozen  Englishmen,  and  a  husband 
who  might  end  in  going  to  the  devil.  Not  another 
woman  nearer  than  Srinagar  ;  and  communication  with 
India  cut  off  for  six  months  in  the  year.  No.  One  would 
never  get  permission.  It  would  simply  wrench  us  apart 
again. — There  seems  to  be  a  Fate  against  this  marriage  of 
mine  every  way.  My  fault,  no  doubt.  Perhaps  as  a 
soldier  with  a  taste  for  exploration,  I  was  a  fool  to  go  in 
for  it  at  all." 

Desmond  leaned  forward,  and  flicked  the  ash  from 
his  cigar. 

"  Nonsense,  man,"  he  said  emphatically.  "  You're 
talking  heresy  and  schism  !  Soldier  or  no  soldier,  I  be- 
lieve in  marriage.  Always  have  done.  With  all  its 
difficulties,  it's  an  incomparable  bond  ;  as  you'll  find  out, 
once  you  two  are  on  the  right  footing.  But  you're  hardly 
fit  enough  yet  to  see  things  in  their  true  perspective.  All 
this  Gilgit  business  is  still  a  good  way  ahead  :  and  I  can 


272  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

only  say  that  if  it  does  come  to  spending  a  good  part 
of  your  service  up  in  the  wilds,  you  could  not  have 
chosen  a  woman  more  fitted  for  it  than  Quita.  The 
better  one  knows  her,  the  more  one  admires  her  .  ." 

The  other's  face  softened. 

"She's  as  straight  and  as  plucky  as  a  man,"  he  said 
simply.  "  And  whatever  comes  of  it,  I'm  a  lucky  devil  to 
be  her  husband. — Think  I'll  turn  in  now,  and  try  for  a 
little  sleep.  I  never  meant  to  inflict  my  affairs  on  you 
like  this.  But  you  bring  it  on  yourself,  Desmond,  by 
being  so  confoundedly  sympathetic ! " 

Before  the  two  men  parted,  the  box  of  opium  pills  had 
changed  hands :  and  Lenox,  by  way  of  trying  for  a  little 
sleep,  lit  a  fresh  cigar, — he  was  beginning  to  tolerate  them 
now, — and  went  out  into  the  garden. 

Its  open  spaces  were  saturated  with  moonlight ;  while 
trees  and  bushes,  solitary  or  huddled  together,  stood  in 
black  pools  of  shadow,  and  fragments  of  curded  cloud 
trailed  across  the  sky.  Absorbed  in  thought,  Lenox 
crossed  a  stretch  of  lawn  set  with  rose-beds  ;  and  turning 
at  the  far  end  strolled  back  towards  the  house,  that  loomed, 
an  unwieldy  mass  of  shadow,  against  the  palpitating 
radiance  beyond. 

The  light  in  his  own  room  showed  through  the  split 
bamboo  of  the  '  chick '  in  hair-line  streaks  of  brightness ; 
but  from  the  door  next  his  own  it  issued  in  a  wide  stream 
that  lost  itself  in  the  moon-splashed  verandah.  Quita  had 
rolled  up  her  '  chick,'  and  stood  leaning  against  the  door- 
post in  an  attitude  that  suggested  weariness,  or  despond- 
ency, or  both ;  the  tall  slender  form  of  her  thrown  into 
strong  relief  by  the  light  within.  He  knew  that  she 
must  have  seen  him ;  and  his  hope  was  that  she  would 
come  out  and  say  good-night  to  him.  Since  he  must 
speak,  it  would  be  a  relief  to  speak  at  once,  and  get  it 
over.  It  might  even  be  possible  to  sleep,  if  matters  could 
be  definitely  settled  between  them  without  further  discord; 
otherwise,  bereft  of  the  opium,  his  chances  were  small 
indeed. 

But  though  he  drew  steadily  nearer,  she  remained 
motionless;  to  all  appearance  unaware  of  his  presence. 
But  the  mere  craving  to  touch  her,  to  hear  her  voice,  grew 


THE   TENTS    OF    ISHMAEL.  273 

stronger  every  minute;  and  he  was  not  to  be  thwarted 
thus.     At  the  verandah's  edge  he  paused. 

"  Quita,"  he  said,  scarcely  above  his  breath. 

"Yes." 

"  Have  you  forgiven  me  ?  " 

"  No.     Not  quite." 

"  But  I  want  you." 

"  Come  to  me,  then."  A  slight  movement  suggested  a 
defiant  tilt  of  her  chin. 

The  verandah  itself  stood  more  than  two  feet  above  the 
ground ;  but  instead  of  going  round  by  the  steps,  he  sprang 
up  on  it,  flung  away  his  cigar,  and  stood  before  her  with 
proffered  hands. 

She  surrendered  her  own. 

"  Now  ?  "  he  asked,  smiling. 

"N  .  no." 

He  stooped  and  kissed  her  hair. 

"  Now,  perhaps  ? " 

"Yes,  .  .  almost.  Though  I'm  not  sure  that  you 
deserve  it." 

"I  don't,"  he  answered  humbly,  taking  the  wind  out 
of  her  sails. 

Then  objects  in  the  room  behind  her  caught  his  atten- 
tion:— her  dressing-table,  with  its  silver-backed  brushes 
and  hand-glass,  its  dainty  feminine  litter ;  her  blue  dress- 
ing-gown flung  over  a  chair ;  and,  tucked  away  in  a  corner, 
her  small  comfortless  bed. 

"  Come  out  into  the  garden,  away  from  all  this,"  he  said 
hurriedly,  almost  angrily.  "  Why  on  earth  did  you  drag 
me  up  here  ? " 

"  Because  it's  the  man's  place  to  come  to  the  woman," 
she  answered,  with  a  demure  dignity  more  provocative 
than  tenderness.  "  It  has  been  too  much  the  other  way 
round  between  us  lately.  As  one  has  to  suffer  from  the 
drawbacks  of  being  a  woman,  one  may  as  well  enjoy  the 
advantages  also." 

"And  having  enjoyed  them,  will  you  graciously  con- 
descend to  come  out  there  with  me  ? " 

"  But  yes ;  of  course  I  will." 

He  turned  on  his  heel ;  and  they  went  out  together.  In 
the  strong  Indian  moonlight  her  soft  blue  dinner-dress, 

3 


274  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

sweeping  the  grass  behind  her,  was  blanched  to  a  silvery 
pallor;  her  bare  neck  and  arms  gleamed  like  marble 
touched  into  life ;  and  unconsciously  she  swayed  a  little 
towards  him  as  she  walked,  like  a  tall  flower  in  a  breeze. 
The  radiant  mystery  of  earth  and  sky,  the  scarcely  less 
radiant  mystery  of  womanhood  beside  him,  conspired  with 
her  veiled  mood  of  gentle  aloofness  to  strike  his  defences 
from  him.  But  he  kept  his  hands  in  his  pockets  by  way 
of  safeguard ;  and  because  he  had  small  skill  in  broaching 
a  difficult  subject,  he  held  his  tongue. 

Half-way  across  the  lawn,  she  came  deliberately  closer. 

"You  know,  you  hurt  me  cruelly  this  afternoon, 
Eldred." 

"  Did  I,  lass  ?  That  was  abominable  of  me.  But  you 
must  make  allowances,  even  if  you  don't  understand.  I'm 
a  man,  and  you're  a  woman.  That  seems  to  be  the  root 
of  the  difficulty.  And  now  I'm  half  afraid  T  may  hurt 
you  again." 

"  Why  ? " 

"  Because  I'm  a  clumsy  brute ;  and  I  do  it  without 
meaning  to.  But  I  suppose  it's  plain  to  you  that  we 
can't  go  on  much  longer  as  we  are  doing  now?" 

"  Of  course  we  can't."  She  let  out  a  breath  of  relief. 
"  I've  been  wondering  when  you  were  going  to  see  that." 

"I  have  seen  it  all  along.  Only,  for  the  life  of  me, 
I  didn't  know  how  to  make  the  next  move.  But  I 
have  just  had  a  talk  with  Desmond,  .  .  about  his 
wife.  He  wants  to  send  her  to  Sheik  Budeen,  the 
minute  she's  fit  to  spend  a  night  in  a  doolie." 

"  Where  .  .  and  what  .  .  is  Sheik  Budeen  ? " 

The  perceptible  change  in  her  tone  disconcerted  him. 
But  the  thing  had  to  be  got  through ;  and  he  went 
ahead  without  swerving. 

"  It  is  an  apology  for  a  Hill  Station,  about  fifty  miles 
north  of  this.  Just  a  handful  of  bungalows,  on  an  ugly 
desolate  rock,  rising  straight  out  of  the  plain.  No  trees ; 
no  water,  except  what  they  collect  in  a  tank  for  use. 
But  being  nearly  four  thousand  feet  up,  it's  a  few  degrees 
cooler  than  this:  and  probably  after  a  week  or  two 
there  Mrs  Desmond  would  be  fit  to  stand  the  journey 
to  JDalhousie." 


THE  TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  275 

It  was  characteristic  of  him  that  he  made  no  attempt 
to  soften  facts :  and  Quita,  edging  a  little  away  from  him, 
lifted  her  head. 

"Is  it  settled  when  one  is  to  start  for  this  inviting 
spot?"  she  asked,  critically  examining  a  distant  star. 

"  In  a  few  days,  if  Mackay  agrees.  Poor  Desmond,  he 
hates  letting  his  wife  go.  But  for  her  sake  he  wants  to 
get  her  away  from  here  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  I  see.  And  you  want  to  get  me  away  from  here  as 
soon  as  possible.  It's  a  very  convenient  arrangement  for 
you  both." 

Her  implication  stabbed  him.  He  stood  still,  and  faced 
her;  his  eyes  full  of  pain.  But  he  made  no  attempt  to 
touch  her :  which  was  a  mistake. 

She  stood  still  also, — head  uplifted,  hands  clasped  be- 
hind her,  —  without  discontinuing  her  scrutiny  of  the 
heavens. 

"By  the  Lord,  you  are  hitting  back  harder  than  I 
deserve,"  he  reproached  her  desperately.  "At  least  you 
might  believe  of  me  all  that  I  said  of  Desmond,  .  .  that 
it  is  for  your  sake,  and  that  I  shall  hate  letting  you  go. 
The  suggestion  was  entirely  his  own.  He  asked  me  to 
tell  you,  from  him,  that  you  would  be  doing  them  both  a 
very  real  kindness  by  going  with  Mrs  Desmond ;  and  I 
thought  ,  .  you  would  be  glad  of  a  chance  to  help 
either  of  them;  especially  since  you  must  know,  after 
all  I  said  at  Kajiar,  that  it  is  impossible  .  .  yet  for  us 
to  start  fair  and  square." 

It  was  a  long  speech  for  Eldred,  and  it  brought  her 
down  from  the  stars. 

"  Naturally  I  am  delighted  to  do  anything  on  earth  for 
the  Desmonds,"  she  said  sweetly,  ignoring  his  final  re- 
mark. "You  speak  as  if  I  might  refuse  to  go.  But  I 
haven't  fallen  quite  so  low  as  that." 

"Quita,  have  you  no  mercy  on  a  man?"  he  flashed 
out  between  anger  and  pain.  "  There  has  never  been 
any  question  of  'falling'  on  your  side,  and  you  know 
it.  But  surely  you  understand  that,  in  spite  of  all 
that  has  happened  between,  what  I  dared  not  to  do  a 
month  ago,  I  dare  not  do  now." 

"  Do  you  mean  .  .  is  .  .  the  trouble  not  any  less  ? " 


276  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  No." 

"  But  I  thought  you  were  going  .  .  to  fight  it  ? " 

"  So  I  am ;  so  I  shall,  till  I  break  it,  or  it  breaks  me. 
But  look  back  over  the  past  few  weeks,  and  ask  yourself 
if  I  have  had  much  of  a  chance  so  far." 

She  unclasped  her  hands  and  looked  up  at  him,  speech 
hovering  in  her  eyes.  But  she  dropped  them  again,  and 
stood  so,  with  bowed  head,  shifting  her  rings  nervously  up 
and  down  her  slim  third  finger. 

"  Dear  lass,  what's  troubling  you  ?  "  he  asked.  "  We've 
got  to  understand  one  another  to-night ;  so  don't  be  afraid 
to  speak  out.  Better  make  a  clean  wound  and  have  done 
with  it,  than  think  hard  things  of  me  that  may  be  unjust. 
Tell  me  the  thought  I  saw  in  your  eyes." 

"  I  was  thinking  of  something  Michael  said."  She 
spoke  in  an  even  voice  without  looking  up. 

"Michael?  Well  .  .  what  was  it?"  Anxiety  sharp- 
ened his  tone. 

"  He  said  that  if  .  .  if  you  really  .  .  wanted  me  back 
again,  your  conscientious  scruples  would  be  swept  away 
like  straws  before  a  flood.  I  wouldn't  believe  him  then. 
But  now  .  .  I'm  afraid  it's  true." 

"  Confound  the  man !  What  does  he  know  about  my 
scruples  ? "  Lenox  broke  out  with  irrepressible  vehemence ; 
and  she  looked  up  quickly. 

"  Please  don't  be  violent,  Eldred.  You  told  me  to  speak 
out.  Besides,  Michael  is  my  brother." 

"  I'm  sorry.  But  if  he  were  ten  times  your  brother,  I'd 
say  the  same.  He  had  no  business  to  try  and  set  you 
against  me  like  that."  He  caught  her  unresisting  hands 
now,  and  held  them  fast. 

"You  take  Michael's  word  against  mine  .  .  is  that  so?" 
he  asked,  a  dull  flush  rising  in  his  face ;  and  he  tried  to 
look  into  her  eyes.  But  she  would  not  have  it. 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  can't  you  see  it's  not,"  she  said,  so  low 
that  he  scarcely  heard  her.  "  It's  .  .  your  own  actions, 
contradicting  your  own  words,  that  make  me  feel  he  must 
be  right." 

Lenox  stood  aghast  at  this  new  and  unanswerable 
aspect  .of  the  case ;  at  the  knowledge  that,  in  respect  of 
practical  proof  to  the  contrary,  his  hands  were  tied. 


THE   TENTS    OP   ISHMAEL.  277 

"  Good  God  !  what  can  a  man  do  to  convince  you  ? "  he 
demanded  on  a  note  of  smothered  passion.  "  Quita  .  . 
my  very  wife,  look  me  in  the  eyes,  and  answer  me 
straight.  Do  you  honestly  believe  that  I  have  been  in- 
sulting you  with  mere  lip-service  all  this  while  ? " 

He  stood  before  her  in  mingled  dignity  and  humility, 
trying  to  master  himself,  to  find  some  admissible  outlet 
for  the  tumult  of  feeling  that  was  undermining  the 
foundations  of  his  will.  But  she  did  not  answer  at  once ; 
nor  did  she  look  up. 

"  Think  how  I  welcomed  you  a  week  ago,"  he  urged. 

"  I  do  think  of  it.  But  .  .  since  then  .  .  ."  She  hesi- 
tated ;  and  a  slow  wave  of  colour  crimsoned  her  neck  and 
face,  even  to  her  forehead.  "  I  .  .  I  don't  know  what  to 
believe,"  she  added  very  low. 

The  words  struck  away  his  last  defences,  and  he  caught 
her  in  his  arms ;  straining  her  to  him,  and  kissing  her 
almost  roughly  on  lips  and  eyes  and  throat.  She  sub- 
mitted at  first,  in  sheer  amazement  and  half-frightened 
joy  at  having  roused  him  thus.  Then  she  tried  to  free 
herself;  but  he  held  her  close,  and  hard. 

"Do  you  believe  now,"  he  asked,  his  lips  at  her  ear, 
"  that  I  want  you  .  .  that  I  love  you  .  .  with  every  part 
of  me,  heart,  and  mind,  and  body  ? " 

For  all  answer  she  leaned  her  head  against  him  with  a 
broken  sob. 

"  Oh,  Eldred,"  she  rebuked  him  through  her  tears.  "  I 
never  knew  you  could  behave  .  .  like  that ! " 

"  No  more  did  I,"  he  answered  bluntly.  "  Forgive  me, 
darling,  if  you  can.  I  was  a  brute  to  lose  control  of  my- 
self. But  you  pushed  me  too  far.  There  are  things  no 
man  of  human  passions  can  put  up  with ;  and  if  you  are 
going  to  begin  by  doubting  my  sincerity,  all  hope  of  real 
union  between  us  is  at  an  end." 

"  Dear  love,  I  promise  I'll  never  doubt  it  again,"  she 
whispered  fervently.  "I'll  go  away,  and  stay  away  .  . 
without  any  fuss,  if  only  I  can  see  things  straight  and 
clear ;  if  only  you  won't  quite  shut  me  out  from  the  best 
part  of  yourself." 

"  I've  no  notion  of  shutting  you  out  from  any  part  of 
myself,  you  precious  woman.  But  the  habit  of  half  a 


278  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

lifetime  is  not  easy  to  break  through;  and  I  suppose 
that  when  two  people  marry  they  have  to  learn  one 
another  bit  by  bit,  like  a  new  language ;  except  in  such 
a  rare  case  as  the  Desmonds,  where  love  and  understand- 
ing are  not  two  things,  but  one,  like  the  man  and  woman 
themselves.  There  .  .  did  you  ever  guess  I  had  thought 
all  that  about  marriage ! " 

She  laughed  contentedly. 

"  No.  How  could  I  ?  And  it's  your  thoughts  I  want, 
Eldred ; — the  hidden  you,  that  belongs  to  no  one  but  me." 

"  Do  you,  though  ?  It  sounds  rather  wholesale  !  But 
I'll  do  my  best." 

"  Come  over  and  sit  on  the  steps ;  and  I'll  try  to  tell  you 
just  how  matters  stand,  and  how  I  feel  about  it  all." 

He  led  her  back  to  the  verandah,  and  establishing  her 
on  the  topmost  step,  seated  himself  lower  down,  one  arm 
passed  behind  her,  his  left  hand  covering  hers  that  lay 
folded  in  her  lap.  Quita,  looking  down  upon  it  in  a 
flutter  of  happiness,  noted  and  approved  it  as  an  epitome 
of  the  man :  large,  without  clumsiness,  nervous  and  full 
of  character. 

Then  he  told  her,  simply  and  straightly,  a  part  of  what 
he  had  told  Desmond;  and  more,  that  was  for  herself 
alone.  Through  all  he  said,  and  left  unsaid,  Quita  felt 
the  force  of  his  ascetic  personality,  of  a  strong  man,  stern 
with  himself  and  his  own  passion;  and,  womanlike, 
thrilled  at  thought  of  her  dominion  over  him  ;  her  power 
to  set  him  vibrating  by  a  word,  a  look,  a  touch.  Yet  she 
listened  without  movement  or  interruption ;  for  the  which 
he  blessed  her  in  his  heart. 

"  I  suppose  there  are  numbers  of  men  who  would  take 
.  .  what  I  refuse  without  a  twinge  of  conscience,"  he  said 
finally.  "But  the  fact  that  I  should  be  acting  dead 
against  the  right,  as  I  see  it,  would  make  capitulation 
wrong  for  me,  .  .  if  not  for  them.  Besides,  one  dare  not 
trifle  with  an  inherited  evil.  One's  only  chance  lies  in 
taking  strong  measures  on  the  spot.  You  understand  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  understand  .  .  now ;  though  I  didn't  at  first. 
And  I  wouldn't  have  you  different  by  one  hair's-breadth, 
though  your  strength  and  single-mindedness  does  make 
things  harder  for  both  of  us." 


THE   TENTS   OF    ISHMAEL.  279 

He  pressed  her  hands. 

"  It's  worth  all  I've  been  through,  and  more,  to  hear  you 
say  that.  Only  remember,  lass,  it's  not  simply  a  question 
of  principles  that  may  seem  to  you  high-flown,  but  of  bed- 
rock facts.  I  don't  want  to  enlarge  on  the  ugly  or  painful 
side  of  a  very  ugly  subject ;  but  I  do  want  you  to  under- 
stand that  not  only  my  career,  but  our  whole  future 
happiness  depends  upon  my  crushing  out  this  habit  before 
it  degenerates  to  a  craving ;  before  my  conscience  gets 
blunted,  my  will-power  undermined.  Opium  is  worse 
than  drink  in  both  respects :  and  if  things  ever  reached 
such  a  pass — which  God  forbid — it  would  mean  losing  my 
commission;  just  going  under,  like  dozens  of  ill-fated 
chaps,  and  sinking  in  the  scale :  or  at  best  scraping  along 
in  the  army  by  means  of  constant  subterfuges,  at  the 
hourly  risk  of  discovery  and  disgrace.  A  nice  sort  of  life 

for  you,  my  proud  little  woman.    And  for "  he  broke 

off  short. 

She  tried  to  speak,  but  tears  were  clutching  at  her  throat ; 
and  after  a  moment's  pause,  he  went  on:  "There  is  a 
great  black  something  deep  down  in  me,  Quita,  that  rises 
up  now  and  then,  like  a  spiritual  fog,  and  blots  all  the 
light  and  colour  out  of  life.  This,  and  the  dread  of  those 
hideous  possibilities  I  spoke  of,  made  me  feel,  a  month 
ago,  as  if  it  might  be  better  for  you  to  be  left  in  compara- 
tive freedom,  than  chained  to  a  man  with  a  devil  inside 
him.  But  your  coming  down  here  has  put  all  that  out  of 
the  question." 

"  Thank  God  I  came,  then." 

"Yes.  Thank  God  you  came,"  he  echoed  fervently. 
"Though  I  was  afraid  you  didn't  quite  realise  .  .  ." 

"  Dear,  I  did.  More  than  you  imagine.  But  I  wanted 
.  .  to  help  you  in  spite  of  yourself ;  and  I  hoped  we  could 
fight  it  out  together." 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  Don't  think  me  brutal,  Quita,  but  a  man's  got  to  fight 
out  this  sort  of  thing  alone  with  his  own  soul  .  .  and  God. 
You  can  only  help  just  by  .  .  loving  me,  and  believ- 
ing that  I  shall  pull  through.  Dear  old  Desmond 
has  done  about  as  much  for  me  as  one  human  being 
seems  permitted  to  do  for  another  in  big  contingen- 


280  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

ties;  and,  by  the  way,  he  said  rather  a  charming  thing 
to-night." 

"  He  has  a  gift  for  that.    What  was  it  ? " 

"  He  said  I  won  the  great  talisman  that  put  failure  out 
the  question." 

She  laughed  again,  softly. 

"  Oh,  how  I  love  that  man,  and  his  incurable  idealism  ! " 

"  You  do  ?  You  lawless  young  woman !  How  many 
more  ? " 

"  Only  one  more  .  .  I  think  ! " 

And  freeing  her  left  hand  she  slipped  it  round  his  head, 
that  was  on  a  level  with  her  shoulder,  drew  it  close 
against  her,  and  ran  her  fingers  lightly  through  his  thick 
hair. 

"  I'm  going  to  weave  a  magic  over  your  head  to  make 
you  sleep,  and  reward  you  for  giving  up  the  opium,  you 
poor,  poor  darling." 

And  with  a  sigh  Lenox  yielded  himself  to  the  ecstasy 
of  her  touch. 

Their  talk  grew  fitful,  and  fragmentary ;  intimate 
lover's  talk,  interspersed  with  luminous  pauses,  that  were 
but  hidden  channels  of  speech ;  till  Quita  felt  the  walls 
within  walls  giving  way  under  her  '  magic,'  and  knew  that 
she  had  reached  the  shy,  inmost  heart  of  the  man  at  last. 
That  enchanted  hour  lifted  them  beyond  the  ardours  of 
passion,  to  the  mastery  of  spirit ;  to  a  passing  revelation 
of  the  eternal  beauty  underlying  earth's  tragedies  and 
complexities :  and  both  were  conscious  of  an  exalted 
strength. 

The  harsh  clanging  of  the  police  gong,  twelve  times 
repeated,  brought  them  back  to  the  iron  facts  of  life. 
With  a  murmur  of  reluctance  they  rose;  and  Lenox 
escorted  his  wife  to  the  door  of  her  room. 

"  Shall  I  let  down  your  '  chick '  for  you  ? "  he  asked. 
"  Please." 

He  untied  the  strings  that  held  it  up.  Then,  as  the 
curtain  fell  between  them  and  the  lamplit  room,  Quita 
turned,  and  with  a  gesture  all  tenderness,  laid  both  arms 
round  his  neck. 

"  I  shall  never  forget  to-night,  Eldred,"  she  whispered, 
"  even  if  we  live  to  be  cross  prosaic  old  people  together. 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  281 

You  may  go  to  the  other  end  of  the  world,  now,  and  stay 
there  as  long  as  you  like  !  I  am  sure  of  you ;  and  I  feel 
in  every  fibre  of  me  that  we  are  going  to  win  through  in 
the  end." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

"In  a  hundred  ages  of  the  gods  I  could  not  tell  thee  of  the  glory  of 
Himachal.  As  the  dew  is  dried  up  by  the  sun,  so  are  the  sins  of  mankind, 
by  the  glory  of  Himachal." — From  the  Hiiidu. 

THAT  night  Eldred  Lenox  slept  long,  and  dreamlessly ; 
and  awoke  with  new  life  throbbing  in  his  veins.  The 
three  uneventful  days  that  followed  were  among  the 
happiest  in  his  life ;  and  on  the  fourth,  before  sunset,  the 
two  women  set  out,  in  hospital  doolies,  on  their  primitive 
journey  to  Sheik  Budeen. 

Honor  had  protested,  almost  to  tears,  at  being  com- 
pelled to  spend  a  fortnight  with  her  heart  in  two  places, 
and  her  body  in  a  third !  But  Desmond,  reinforced  by 
John  Meredith,  had  held  his  own ;  promising  to  escort  her 
to  the  barren  Rock  of  Refuge,  whose  only  virtue  was  its 
elevation;  and,  by  arranging  a  relay  of  ponies  along 
the  route,  gallop  back  in  time  for  '  orderly  room '  next 
morning.  "Which  is  more  than  nine  husbands  out  of 
ten  would  do  for  a  headstrong  wife ! "  Meredith  had  con- 
cluded, stroking  her  flushed  cheek :  and  thus  the  matter 
had  been  settled. 

Lenox  and  Quita  spent  the  last  afternoon  together  in 
their  own  bungalow,  at  her  suggestion.  The  officious 
chowkidar  unearthed  two  punkah  coolies  for  the  occasion : 
and  the  planning  of  their  future  home,  a  picnic  tea  served 
on  Eldred's  writing-table,  and  practical  considerations  in 
respect  of  furniture  and  house  linen — though  Quita  had 
small  inherent  regard  for  either ! — helped,  more  or  less,  to 
obscure  the  thought  of  separation.  Before  leaving  the 
bungalow,  she  won  through  the  dreaded  last  injunctions 
and  kisses  without  ignominious  collapse,  since  Lenox  was 


282  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

to  ride  out  for  a  few  miles  beside  the  doolie ;  and  they 
parted  finally  with  brave  words,  and  a  prolonged  hand- 
clasp that  left  her  fingers  tingling  for  a  good  five 
minutes  afterwards. 

Quita  never  forgot  that  journey.  Its  weird  fascination, 
clashing  with  the  ache  of  parting,  stamped  every  detail 
indelibly  upon  her  memory : — the  vast,  featureless  plain, 
empty  as  a  widow's  heart ;  the  lavish  moonlight  poured  out 
upon  it  like  water,  flowing  unhindered  to  the  naked  spurs 
of  the  frontier  hills,  whose  huge  shoulders,  peaks,  and 
escarpments  blotted  out  the  stars  along  the  western 
horizon ;  the  occasional  appearance  of  wild-looking  Waziri 
militia-men,  from  the  chain  of  outposts  along  the  foot- 
hills, who  had  been  warned  to  keep  up  a  sharp  look-out 
along  the  road :  no  villages  ;  no  trees ;  no  sound  or  move- 
ment anywhere,  save  the  distorted  shadows  and  rythmical 
grunting  of  her  doolie-bearers,  the  soft  shuffling  of  their 
feet,  and  the  click  of  hoofs,  as  Desmond  rode  at  a  foot's 
pace  beside  his  wife,  or  dismounting,  walked  and  talked 
with  her,  his  bridle  slung  over  his  arm. 

The  suggestion  of  tenderness  and  companionship  in 
their  low  tones  seemed  to  accentuate  the  lifeless  desola- 
tion through  which  they  moved,  the  blankness  and  un- 
certainty of  the  anxious  months  ahead.  Possibly  some- 
thing of  this  occurred  to  Desmond ;  for  after  the  first  few 
miles  he  deserted  his  wife  now  and  again,  and  walked  by 
Quita;  exorcising  the  spirit  of  self-torment  that  haunts 
the  imaginative,  as  he  of  all  men  best  knew  how  to  do. 

Finally,  lulled  by  the  movement  of  the  doolie,  she  fell 
asleep ;  and  awoke  to  find  herself  in  a  changed  world :  a 
world  of  rough-cut  volcanic  rock  and  boulder,  piled  up  on 
either  hand  in  fantastic  disarray  ;  a  world  of  white  light 
and  sharp  black  shadows ;  of  mystery,  and  terror,  and  un- 
canny beauty.  It  was  as  if  she  had  been  transported  back 
to  the  morning  of  Time,  when  the  earth  giants  wrenched 
up  the  mountains,  and  pelted  one  another  in  pure  sport : 
and  as  she  flung  back  the  loose  flap  of  her  doolie  to  get  a 
wider  view  of  it  all,  Desmond  trotted  up  to  her. 

"  It's  less  alarming  than  it  looks,"  he  reassured  her. 
"  We  have  only  turned  off  into  the  Paizu  Pass.  It's  a 
nasty  dangerous  bit  of  road;  but  our  own  men  are  on 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  283 

ahead,  so  we're  safe  enough.  We  shall  be  climbing  the 
hill  directly  ;  and  I'll  be  uncommonly  glad  of  my  chota 
hazri." 

"  You  deserve  it,  you  poor  fellow  !  But  it  sounds 
an  anachronism !  I  can't  believe  that  anything  so  com- 
monplace as  a  bungalow,  with  servants  and  tea  and 
toast,  exists  within  a  hundred  miles  of  this  primeval 
nakedness." 

But  in  the  fulness  of  time,  bungalow,  tea,  and  servants 
were  all  forthcoming :  and  between  three  and  four  of  the 
morning  their  fantastic  journey  culminated  in  a  prosaic 
meal  of  eggs  and  buttered  toast.  When  it  was  over  Quita 
vanished,  leaving  Desmond  alone  with  his  wife ;  and 
before  moonset  he  was  speeding  back  along  the  road  they 
had  come ;  covering  the  fifty  miles  at  a  hand-gallop,  in 
something  less  than  five  hours. 

A  fortnight  later  two  very  unwilling  grass-widows  were 
rescued  by  Lenox,  who  had  secured  his  sick  leave  ;  and 
who  escorted  them  from  Dera  Ishmael  as  far  as  Lahore, 
where  he  left  them  to  go  on  into  the  mountain  region 
beyond  Kashmir. 

Hillmen  have  a  saying,  '  Who  goes  to  the  hills  goes  to 
his  mother ' ;  and  Eldred  Lenox,  a  hillman  both  by  love 
and  lineage,  confirmed  it  for  the  hundredth  time,  as  he 
pushed  his  way  upward,  by  leisurely  enchanting  stages, 
from  the  steaming  Punjab,  through  the  great  natural  gate- 
way of  the  Baramullah  Pass,  a  towering  defile,  thunderous 
with  full-fed  torrents  and  waterfalls,  into  the  familiar 
Valley,  .  .  a  very  sanctuary  of  peace ;  its  terraced  slopes 
splashed  with  the  vivid  green  of  rice-fields,  the  russet  and 
gold  of  ripe  orchards  and  cornlands  ;  up  through  Srinagar, 
'the  City  of  the  Sun,'  of  carved  and  gilded  temples, 
thronged  waterways,  and  flat  house-tops  blazoned  with 
flowers ;  and  yet  again  upward,  by  ways  well  known  to 
him,  into  the  hidden  mysteries  of  the  mountains  massed 
about  the  valleys ;  a  mighty  conclave  of  immortals  brood- 
ing in  majestic  meditation  ;  shrouded  at  this  season  by 
dazzling  continents  of  cloud ;  and  plunging  green  arms 
to  the  rivers  and  lakes,  that  gleamed  like  molten  silver 
under  a  pale  sky. 


284  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

To  know  a  character  rightly  it  should  be  seen  in  its 
natural  element ;  and  the  Lenox  of  the  Himalayas  was  by 
no  means  the  same  man  as  the  Lenox  of  the  Plains.  All 
his  latent  energy  and  vigour  blossomed  out  like  flowers  at 
at  the  first  whisper  of  spring.  '  The  glory  of  Himachal ' 
drew  and  penetrated  and  inspired  him  like  nothing  else 
on  earth. 

Here  he  tracked  and  brought  down  nilghai,  markhor, 
and  the  great  mountain  sheep  ;  explored  011  a  small  scale, 
because  the  fever  of  going  was  upon  him ;  and  slept  as  a 
man  only  sleeps  when  he  is  living  close  to  the  heart 
of  Nature.  Here,  also, — fortified  by  solitude,  by  the  up- 
lifting sense  of  things  awful  and  divine  which  is  the  gift 
of  great  mountains  to  those  who  love  them, — he  fought 
doggedly  and  systematically  against  a  craving  that  per- 
sisted in  spite  of  improved  health.  For  the  tyranny  of 
opium  is  as  tenacious  as  it  is  deadly ;  and  the  habit  of 
five  years  is  not  to  be  broken  in  as  many  weeks.  But  the 
man  who  wills  to  conquer  evil  has  God  and  Nature  fight- 
ing on  his  side :  and  in  the  teeth  of  several  flagrant  lapses, 
Lenox  made  steady  progress. 

In  Sriuagar  he  bought  a  bottle  of  chlorodyne ;  and  two 
days  later  flung  it  down  the  Jchud.  When  his  store  of 
drugged  tobacco  ran  out,  he  replaced  it  by  a  brand  in 
which  an  innocuous  admixture  of  opium  just  sufficed  to 
produce  the  faint  fragrance  that  he  loved.  The  black  fits 
of  melancholy,  which  were  native  to  his  temperament,  and 
which,  in  the  past  five  years,  had  threatened  to  dominate 
him  permanently,  evaporated  like  morning  fogs  before  the 
sun  as  the  certainty  grew  in  him  that  he  must  prevail : 
and  Quita,  who  had  done  most  of  the  harm,  made  un- 
conscious reparation  by  letters  whose  consummate  faith  in 
the  final  issue  was  stimulating  as  the  mountain  air  itself. 

By  October  he  was  back  at  Dera  Ishmael  Khan ; — a  re- 
newed man,  bronzed  and  vigorous,  the  shadow  gone  from 
his  eyes ;  testing  his  achievement  and  finding  that  it  held 
good ;  bending  all  his  energies  to  the  task  of  fitting  up  a 
home  for  his  wife ;  a  task  whereof  Honor  usurped  as  large 
a  share  as  he  would  permit.  Then,  towards  the  end  of  the 
month,  he  wrote  to  Quita :  "  Come.  We  are  ready,  and 


THE   TENTS   OF   ISHMAEL.  285 

waiting  for  you, — the  house,  Zyarulla,  Brutus,  and  your 
impatient  husband,  who  will  pick  you  up  at  Lahore." 

And  on  the  last  day  of  October,  more  than  six  years 
after  their  hasty  wedding,  Eldred  and  Quita  Lenox  entered 
upon  their  married  life. 

"  Have  you  forgotten,  darling,  the  nonsense  I  talked 
that  day  about  the  House,  and  the  Enchanted  Palace  ? " 
she  asked,  as  they  stood  together  on  their  first  evening  in 
the  drawing-room,  whose  every  detail  he  had  planned  with 
elaborate  care. 

"  Is  it  likely  ?    Why  ? " 

His  arm  was  round  her  shoulders ;  and  putting  up  one 
hand  she  touched  his  face. 

"  Why  .  .  because  I  said  we  would  have  to  begin  with 
the  House.  But  we  seem  to  have  reached  the  Enchanted 
Palace  before  starting  after  all  ?  " 

"  By  a  very  roundabout  route,"  he  answered,  a  suspicion 
of  the  old  sadness  in  his  eyes. 

"Yes;  but  we  have  reached  it.  That's  the  main  point, 
dear  Pessimist;  and  the  commonplace  House  I  offered 
you  has  tumbled  into  a  dust-heap  of  ruins.  Don't  let's 
build  it  up  again,  whatever  else  we  may  do  in  the  way  of 
foolishness.  Eetrogression  is  the  one  unforgiveable  sin  ! " 

It  is  the  instinctive  cry  of  love  in  the  first  flush  of  ful- 
filment. The  grand  impulsion  of  man  to  woman  brushes 
aside  lesser  considerations  like  so  many  flies.  But  Life 
and  Temperament,  standing  discreetly  in  the  background, 
will  have  their  say  in  the  '  fateful  second  act '  of  the 
human  comedy  before  the  curtain  drops. 


286 


BOOK  IV.-THE  VALLEY  OF  DECISION. 

CHAPTEE   XXVI. 

"  Climb  high,  love  high,  what  matter  ?    Still  .  .  . 
Feet,  feelings,  must  descend  the  hill." 

— BROWNING. 

ON  a  certain  afternoon  of  early  March,  Quita  Lenox  stood 
at  her  easel,  in  the  small  room  she  had  fitted  up  as  a 
studio,  palette  in  one  hand,  long-handled  brush  in  the 
other,  two  broken  lines  of  irritation  between  her  brows. 

The  verandah  door  stood  wide ;  and  through  it  the 
breath  of  spring  came  in  to  her,  velvet  soft,  compact  of  a 
hundred  nameless  scents,  mingled  with  the  paramount 
scent  of  roses.  For  March  is  India's  rose  month :  and  in 
the  midst  of  so  much  that  is  unlovely,  the  roses  of  Dera 
Ishmael  Khan  are  things  to  marvel  at,  and  thank  Heaven 
for.  Quita's  rambling  compound  was  packed  with  them, 
from  the  plebeian  Cabbage,  to  the  lordly  Mare'chal  Neil. 
Three  golden  buds  of  the  latter  drooped  over  the  white 
ribbon  bow  at  her  waist:  and  a  bowl  of  dark  red  ones 
stood  on  the  untidy  table  behind  her. 

But  even  the  subtle-sweet  influence  of  the  day  failed 
to  sooth  the  creases  out  of  her  forehead.  For  the  panel 
picture  on  her  easel  would  not  'behave';  her  scattered 
ideas  refused  to  range  themselves :  and  the  fount  of 
inspiration  seemed  dried  up  within  her :  trifles  insignifi- 
cant enough  to  the  '  lay '  mind :  but  for  the  artist,  whether 
of  pencil,  or  brush,  or  chisel,  they  spell  despair.  All  the 
morning  she  had  wrestled  with  the  picture  half  defiantly, 
as  it  were  against  the  stream.  Such  work  is  seldom 
satisfactory;  and  since  lunch  she  had  been  engaged  in 
blotting  it  all  out  ruthlessly,  bit  by  bit. 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  287 

The  refractory  creation  of  her  spirit  was  a  small  panel 
in  oils  :  a  subject  picture,  more  or  less  symbolical,  such  as 
she  did  not  often  attempt : — a  broken  hillside,  of  Hima- 
layan character:  bare  blocks  of  granite,  dripping  with 
recent  rain,  their  dark  corners  and  interstices  alight  with 
shy  wild  flowers  and  ferns:  a  stone-set  path  zigzagging 
among  them,  and  half-way  up  the  path,  the  figures  of  a 
man  and  woman :  the  man  ahead,  upon  a  jutting  ledge  of 
rock,  half  turning  with  down-stretched  hand  to  draw  the 
woman  up  after  him,  his  vigorous  form  backed  by  a 
sky  of  driving  cloud.  Of  the  woman's  face,  as  she  lifted 
it  to  his,  nothing  could  be  seen  save  the  outline  of  cheek 
and  brow.  Her  bowed  shoulders  and  the  lines  of  her 
figure  expressed  effort,  tinged  with  weariness.  Below  her, 
the  topmost  half  of  a  deodar  sprang  upward,  a  suggestion 
of  wind  in  its  drooping  bows:  and  through  torn  grey 
cloud,  a  sun-ray,  striking  across  the  two  figures,  waked 
coppery  gleams  in  the  woman's  dark  hair,  and  points  of 
brightness  on  drenched  rock  and  fern. 

All  these  things  were  as  yet  conveyed  rather  than 
expressed:  the  figures,  in  particular,  being  still  little 
more  than  studies  suggesting  both  the  strain  and  exhil- 
aration of  ascent.  On  a  strip  of  cardboard  propped  above 
the  canvas,  four  lines  were  scribbled  in  pencil. 

"  Does  the  road  wind  up-hill  all  the  way  ? 

Yes,  to  the  very  end. 

Will  the  day's  journey  take  the  whole  long  day  ? 
From  morn  till  night,  my  friend." 

Quita  read  and  pondered  the  words  for  the  hundredth 
time :  but  the  hint  of  melancholy  in  them  only  increased 
her  vague  feeling  of  annoyance,  and  the  lines  deepened 
between  her  brows. 

It  was  her  first  serious  attempt  at  a  picture  after  four 
months  of  idleness,  and  'amateur  scribblings' — so  she 
designated  them  in  her  letters  to  Michael;  and  for  the 
time  being  brain  and  hand  seemed  to  have  lost  their 
cunning.  She  needed  the  stimulant  of  criticism,  of  dis- 
cussion, to  oil  the  wheels  and  set  the  machine  going 
afresh.  If  only  Michael  were  here,  how  they  would  have 
argued  and  squabbled,  to  their  souls'  content,  over  values, 


288  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

and  proportions  and  effects  of  light  and  shade  ;  and  what 
a  fine  day's  work  would  have  sprung  from  it  all ! 

"  I  really  think  I  must  get  him  down  here  for  a  week 
or  two,"  she  thought.  "Just  to  give  me  a  fillip  in  the 
right  direction." 

Fired  by  the  notion,  she  made  one  or  two  ineffectual 
dabs  at  the  woman's  draperies :  then,  flinging  down  brush 
and  palette,  sank  into  a  deep,  cushioned  chair  sacred  to 
her  husband,  as  a  small  table  bearing  ash-tray,  pipes,  and 
a  pile  of  corrected  proofs,  bore  witness.  She  glanced 
through  them  lazily,  with  softened  eyes :  then,  as  if  drawn 
by  a  magnet,  her  gaze  returned  to  the  picture. 

"  Horrid  depressing  thing ! "  she  reflected.  "  And  yet  .  . 
how  attractive !  The  general  character  of  it  is  rather  like 
Eldred  himself.  I  suppose  I  could  produce  nothing  that 
wasn't  at  this  stage  !  They  are  both  up-hill  subjects, 
certainly;  worth  tackling;  and  not  to  be  mastered  in  a 
day." 

But  for  all  that  she  was  little  used  to  wrestling  with 
her  art.  The  touch  of  genius  in  her  was  of  the  spon- 
taneous, rather  than  of  the  painstaking  order;  and  a 
remembered  word  of  Michael's  rose  up  to  disconcert  her. 
"Succumb  to  your  womanhood  and  there  is  an  end  of 
you  Art."  Irritating  man !  What  business  had  he  to 
make  random  shots  so  near  to  the  truth.  Yet  it  was  not 
the  whole  truth ;  and  hers  was  the  chance  to  prove  it. 

Certainly  for  the  past  six  months  and  more,  she  had 
succumbed  unreservedly  to  her  womanhood ;  had  endured 
without  a  pang  the  temporary  eclipse  of  her  art.  What 
need  to  strive  after  the  presentation,  the  expression  of 
life,  when  she  had  penetrated  to  the  core  of  it :  was  living 
it  buoyantly,  fervently,  with  every  faculty  of  heart  and 
spirit?  By  nature  a  being  of  extremes,  she  was  apt  to 
fling  all  her  energies  in  one  direction  at  a  time :  and  in 
these  last  months  of  so  -  called  idleness  she  had  been 
mastering  the  rudiments  of  the  finest  and  most  complex 
of  all  arts, — the  art  of  living  in  closest  human  relationship 
with  '  a  creature  of  equal,  if  of  unlike  frailties ' ;  an  art 
that  must  be  mastered  afresh,  year  by  year  :  because  life, 
as  we  know  it,  is  rooted  in  change ;  and  if  a  husband  and 
wife  are  not  imperceptibly  growing  towards  one  another, 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  289 

they  are  almost  infallibly  growing  in  the  other  direction. 
But  for  the  artist  woman  self-surrender  is  no  natural 
instinct :  it  is  a  talent  to  be  consciously  acquired,  if  she 
ever  acquire  it  at  all:  and  although  Quita  had,  in  some  sort, 
been  through  the  fire,  she  was  still  a  novice  in  those  '  pro- 
found and  painless  lessons  of  love,'  that  can  only  be  taught 
in  the  incomparable  school  of  marriage. 

Meanwhile,  she  was  learning  her  husband, — in  his  own 
phrase, — like  a  new  language ;  and  enjoying  the  process, 
despite  its  undeniable  difficulty.  For  the  man  was  by 
temperament  inarticulate,  and  a  solitary :  propensities 
aggravated  by  six  years  of  bitterness,  and  stifled  pas- 
sion. Let  his  love  be  never  so  deep  and  true,  the 
spell  of  isolation,  the  spirit  that  drives  men  into  the 
wilderness,  was  as  strong  in  him  as  the  need  to  share 
thought  and  feeling  with  the  heart  nearest  her  own  was 
in  his  wife.  At  no  time  could  he  have  been  classed  among 
the  frankly  unthinking  men  who  slip  into  marriage  as 
composedly  as  they  slip  into  a  new  suit  of  clothes :  and 
at  five-and-thirty,  the  complete  readjustment  of  life  and 
habit  demanded  by  this  exquisite  yet  exacting  bond  could 
not  be  arrived  at  without  some  degree  of  conscious  strain 
and  compromise. 

The  past  few  weeks  had  revealed  to  both,  more  or  less 
clearly,  the  '  sea  of  contrarieties '  through  which  they 
were  called  upon  to  steer  without  capsizing ;  had  brought 
them  to  that  critical  turning-point  when  the  first  rapture 
of  passion  in  possession  subsides  imperceptibly,  into  an 
emotion  deeper  and  more  stable;  when  the  insignificant 
outer  world  resumes  its  normal  proportions ;  and  individ- 
uality reasserts  itself,  often  with  disconcerting  results ! 

Hence  Quita's  revived  zeal  to  finish  a  picture  begun 
and  flung  aside  months  ago ;  and  Eldred's  unusually 
prompt  response  to  a  request  from  an  Editor  friend  in 
England  for  a  set  of  articles  on  Tibet,  whose  holy  of  holies 
had  not  then  been  unveiled  and  described  for  the  benefit 
of  man's  insatiable  curiosity. 

He  was  in  his  study  now,  finishing  the  first  of  them  in 
time  for  the  homeward  mail :  unconsciously  enjoying  a 
return  to  the  familiar  occupation.  The  writing  of  it  had 
engrossed  more  of  his  mind  and  leisure  during  the  last 

T 


290  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

week  than  Quita  chose  to  consider  quite  admissible  in 
those  early  days.  Her  own  absorption  in  her  picture  was 
quite  another  matter,  be  it  understood  !  And,  in  truth, 
she  would  gladly  have  had  him  in  the  studio,  ensconced 
in  his  own  chair,  and  available  for  argument  or  love- 
making  according  to  her  mood.  Hitherto  she  had  re- 
sisted temptations  to  invade  his  study  when  she  knew 
him  to  be  at  work.  But  this  afternoon  a  vague  spirit  of 
unrest  had  gotten  hold  of  her,  making  the  thought  of  his 
diligence,  and  complacent  detachment  from  her,  peculiarly 
exasperating ;  and  before  long  exasperation  drove  her  to 
the  door  of  his  sanctum. 

It  stood  ajar  :  and  pushing  it  open,  she  went  softly  in. 
His  back  was  toward  her,  and  his  concentration  so  com- 
plete that  he  was  not  aware  of  her  till  she  stood  at  his 
elbow.  Then  he  started  and  looked  up  with  a  smothered 
exclamation  of  doubtful  character. 

"  Hullo,  my  lady,  I  thought  this  was  against  regula- 
tions !  What's  up?" 

She  perched  lightly  on  the  arm  of  his  chair. 

"Nothing's  up.  I'm  rather  'down,'  that's  all;  or  I 
wouldn't  have  infringed  your  territorial  rights  !  Do  leave 
off  being  a  model  of  industry,  and  come  into  the 
studio." 

"  But,  my  dear  girl,  .  .  why  ? " 

"  Because  I  want  you.  Isn't  that  reason  enough  ? 
There'll  be  plenty  of  time  to  finish  grinding  out  dry-as- 
dust  facts  about  Tibet  after  tea." 

"  I'm  afraid  not.  I  told  Desmond  I'd  get  down  to  the 
tent-pegging  early.  Is  it  really  anything  important, 
lass  ? "  he  added,  controlling  his  impatience  with  an 
effort. 

"  Oh  dear,  no,  not  the  least  in  the  world  ! "  She  was  on 
her  feet  now :  head  erect :  dignity  incarnate.  "  Unless  it 
is  important  to  do  what  your  wife  asks  you  with  good 
grace.  But  I  believe  little  illusions  of  that  kind  are 
warranted  not  to  outlast  four  months  of  marriage." 

He  brought  his  hand  sharply  down  on  the  table. 

"  Quita,  you  are  talking  childish  nonsense.  Why  the 
dickens  can't  you  leave  me  in  peace  till  I'm  through  ?  I 
shan't  be  much  longer  now  :  and  you  can  lecture  me  on 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  291 

the  whole  duty  of  husbands  all  the  evening,  if  you've  a 
mind  to." 

"Indeed  I've  not.  Duty  never  gets  a  word  in  edge- 
ways, while  Love  is  master  of  the  house.  If  it  ever  comes 
to  '  duty '  between  you  and  me,  I  shall  pack  my  kit  and 
go,  I  promise  you.  It's  the  reality  or  nothing  for  me. — 
But  don't  hurry  your  work  on  my  account,  mon  ami,"  she 
added,  on  her  way  to  the  door.  "  I  shall  probably  drive 
over  to  Honor's,  and  leave  you  in  peace  till  dinner-time. 
In  fact,  you  have  my  permission  to  dine  at  mess  for  a 
change,  if  it  would  amuse  you." 

And  as  he  turned  quickly  with  remonstrance  on  his  lips, 
the  door  closed  behind  her.  With  a  sigh  that  ended  in  a 
smile,  he  took  up  his  pen  again:  wishing  her  back  the 
moment  she  was  out  of  reach.  For  beneath  his  surface 
equanimity,  the  man  in  him  was  still  thrilling  under  the 
emotion  and  astonishment  of  absolute  possession;  under 
the  hallowing  sense  of  permanence  that  at  once  calmed 
and  exalted  the  fever  heat  of  passion. 

But  Quita  returned  to  her  studio  feeling  more  out  of 
tune  than  ever.  It  was  her  own  foolish  fault,  of  course, 
for  interrupting  him :  a  form  of  knowledge  that  has  never 
yet  made  for  consolation.  And  while  she  stood  alone 
before  her  picture,  wondering  whether  she  really  would 
order  the  trap  and  go  over  to  the  Desmonds,  footsteps  in 
the  verandah  heralded  Honor's  appearance  in  the  door- 
way : — a  glowing  Honor,  looking  remarkably  young  and 
fresh  in  a  long,  loose  alpaca  coat,  and  a  shady  Leghorn 
in  which  roses  nodded :  the  peach-bloom  of  health  back 
in  her  cheeks,  the  old  buoyant  stateliness  in  her  step  and 
carriage. 

Quita  flew,  to  her  with  a  little  cry. 

"  Honor,  you  dear  woman !  How  engaging  of  you  to 
turn  up,  just  when  I  was  wanting  you,  and  feeling  too 
lazy  to  go  and  find  you." 

The  kiss  that  passed  between  them  was  a  real  one  :  not 
the  perfunctory  peck  of  greeting  that  usurps  its  name. 
For,  as  flowers  most  exquisite  spring  from  strangely  un- 
promising soil,  so  had  those  two  weeks  of  isolation  and 
heart-hunger  on  the  unloveliest  hill-top  of  Northern 
India  generated  an  enduring  friendship  between  these 


292  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

two  women,  so  unlike  in  outward  seeming:  a  deeper 
thing  than  the  facile  feminine  interchange  of  Christian 
names  and  kisses. 

"  Come  your  ways  in,  you  patent  radiator  of  happiness  ! " 
And  Quita  would  have  thrust  her  friend  into  Eldred's 
chair :  but  Honor,  catching  sight  of  the  picture,  went 
eagerly  up  to  it. 

"  My  dear,  how  remarkable !  When  did  you  begin 
it?" 

"  Ages  ago,  in  Dalhousie ;  and  now  I  want  to  finish  it. 
But  the  lamp  of  inspiration  won't  burn.  I'm  afraid  the 
wick's  gone  mouldy  from  disuse." 

But  Honor  was  reading  the  lines  above  the  canvas. 

"  Ah,  I  see  !  Christina  Eossetti,"  she  said.  "  Quita, 
you  must  finish  this.  It's  going  to  be  very  good.  I  love 
that  little  poem." 

"  Yes,  you  would.  I've  always  rebelled  against  it.  But 
last  year  when  everything  seemed  such  a  struggle,  the 
lines  haunted  me  so,  that  I  tried  to  get  rid  of  them  by 
turning  them  into  a  picture ;  and  that's  the  result. 
Rather  like  Eldred  and  me  !  He's  always  dragging  me 
up  on  to  higher  ground :  yet  he's  so  divinely  unconscious 
of  it  all  the  time." 

"  Dear  fellow  ! "  Honor  said  softly.  "  But  he  hasn't 
done  all  the  lifting.  You've  made  a  new  man  of  him, 
Quita." 

"  Have  I  ? "  Sudden  seriousness  shadowed  her  eyes. 
"  It  was  the  least  I  could  do,  .  .  considering  all  things. 
Only  .  .  I  wish  he  wasn't  quite  so  inward ;  so  in  love 
with  his  own  company." 

"  You'll  change  that,  in  time." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?     I  wonder." 

She  bent  in  speaking  to  look  through  three  or  four 
small  canvases  that  stood  with  their  faces  to  the  wall. 

"  I  want  to  show  you  the  pair  to  my  Up-Hill  picture. 
It's  another  Eossetti,  Amor  Mundi ;  and  the  contrast 
pleases  me.  I've  taken  the  opening  lines: 

"  '  Oh  where  are  you  going,  with  your  love-locks  flowing, 
On  the  west  wind  blowing,  along  this  valley  track  ? ' 
'  The  down-hill  path  is  easy  ;  come  with  me,  an'  it  please  ye  ; 
We  shall  escape  the  up-hill,  by  never  turning  back.' 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  293 

So  they  two  went  together,  in  glowing  August  weather, 
The  honey-breathing  heather  lay  to  their  left  and  right  .  .' 

There  now,  can't  you  see  them  going  down  and  down  .  .  .?" 

With  a  quick  turn  of  the  wrist  she  brought  the  picture 
into  view,  and  set  it  on  the  table  in  a  good  light. 

"  Can't  you  feel  the  soft  wind  against  their  faces,  .  . 
the  ease,  the  swiftness,  and  the  thrill  of  it  all ;  the  thrill 
of  yielding  to  earth  and  the  beauty  of  earth,  of  giving  up 
for  a  while  one's  futile  strugglings  to  reach  the  moon  ? " 

Honor  stood  silent,  gazing  at  the  picture  with  rapt 
interest.  To  this  deep-hearted  passionate  woman,  whose 
sympathies  stretched  upward  and  downward  along  the 
whole  gamut  of  human  feeling,  its  appeal  was  far  stronger 
than  Quita — in  whom  passion  was  mainly  an  imaginative 
quality — was  likely  to  realise.  For  the  small  picture  was 
heavy  with  heat  and  colour,  and  the  glamour  of  high  mid- 
summer ;  the  sky's  blue  intensity  glowing  between  masses 
of  white  thunderous  cloud ;  the  hillsides  clothed  in  their 
August  splendour  of  purple,  and  pink,  and  green  :  and 
down  the  white  track  that  sloped  to  the  valley  a  man 
and  a  woman,  hand  in  hand,  the  woman  leading,  appeared 
to  be  coming  straight  out  of  the  picture.  Her  flying 
hair,  and  the  sweep  of  her  draperies,  showed  the  speed  of 
their  going  ;  and  the  ecstasy  of  it  shone  in  the  faces  of  both. 

"  It's  a  powerful  little  poem,"  Quita  exclaimed.  "  As 
they  go  on  they  meet  with  grisly  portents,  the  track  gets 
steeper,  and  they  are  afraid.  But  by  that  time  it  is  '  too 
steep  for  hill-mounting,  and  too  late  for  cost-counting ; 
the  down-hill  path  is  easy,  but  there's  no  turning  back.' " 

Honor  gave  a  little  shiver. 

"  It's  a  wonderful  bit  of  work,"  she  said.  "  But  is  it 
always  the  man  who  leads  up,  and  the  woman  who  leads 
down,  Quita?" 

"  No.  By  no  manner  of  means !  I  happened  to  see  it 
so  in  those  two  instances.  Probably  the  sainted  Chris- 
tina saw  it  the  other  way  round. — But  come  and  sit  in 
Eldred's  chair  now,  and  let's  get  back  to  realities." 

"  Realities  ?  Why,  my  dear,  your  pictures  touch  the 
height  and  depth  of  the  biggest  realities.  I  never  knew 
you  did  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  I  don't  as  a  rule.     But  those  poems  possessed  me." 


294  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  Well,  I  can  only  say,  go  on  and  do  more." 

"  I  will  .  .  if  I  can."  And  gently  pushing  Honor  into 
the  chair,  she  settled  herself  on  the  carpet,  and  flung  an 
arm  over  her  friend's  knee.  "  It's  high  time  I  started 
work  again.  I've  been  idling  far  too  long." 

Honor  smiled.  "  Don't  be  in  a  hurry  to  put  an  end  to 
it,  dear.  It's  one  of  the  divinest  and  most  profitable 
kinds  of  idling  you  will  ever  know.  You  are  building  up 
your  future  in  these  first  months  together." 

Quita's  sigh  was  a  little  anxious,  though  not  sad. 

"  Are  we  ?  Well,  I  hope  we've  got  the  foundations 
right,"  she  said,  looking  thoughtfully  up  into  the  other's 
face.  Something  in  its  veiled  brilliance  caught  her  atten- 
tion, and  bent  her  flexible  mind  in  another  direction. 
"  Do  you  know,  Honor,"  she  went  on,  "  you've  blossomed 
out  amazingly  just  lately.  Your  eyes  are  shining  like 
two  stars,  as  if  you  had  some  heavenly  secret  hidden 
behind  them." 

"  It's  an  open  secret,  and  a  very  human  one ! "  Honor 
answered,  smiling.  "You  are  well  on  the  way  to  dis- 
covering it  for  yourself." 

With  a  low  sound,  Quita  captured  the  hand  lying  near 
her  own. 

"  Oh,  you  utter  woman ! "  she  murmured.  "  Is  it  still 
so  beautiful  .  .  .  after  three  years  ? " 

Honor's  colour  deepened.  "  It's  more  beautiful.  Much 
more  beautiful.  Because  now  .  .  there  are  two  of  them." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence,  while  Quita  fidgeted 
with  the  great  square  sapphire  on  her  friend's  wedding- 
finger. 

"  You'll  think  me  dreadful,"  she  said  at  last.  "  But  I'm 
not  quite  sure  that  I  see  the  logic  of  that.  For  the 
present,  at  all  events,  I  only  want  Eldred,  and  these  .  . 
my  spirit  children,"  she  indicated  her  pictures  with  a 
little  nervous  laugh.  "You  must  make  allowances  for 
the  artist  woman,  Honor.  She  so  seldom  feels  and  does 
the  things  she  ought  to  feel  and  do ! " 

"  That's  just  why  she  is  apt  to  be  so  refreshing ! — But 
believe  me,  Quita,  the  most  perfect  marriage  is  not  quite 
perfect  till  it  becomes  'the  trio  perfect,'  three  persons 
and  one  love.  That's  not  fantastic  idealism  but  simple 


THE   VALLEY   OP   DECISION.  295 

fact.  Besides,"  she  hesitated  and  caressed  a  stray  tendril 
of  Quita's  hair,  "  doesn't  it  seem  to  you  a  bigger  thing, 
on .  the  whole,  to  make  men  and  women  to  the  best  of 
one's  power,  than  to  make  books  or  pictures,  even  fine 
ones  ? " 

"Yes,  in  some  ways  .  .  it  does.  And  for  that  very 
reason  I  doubt  whether  I  am  fitted  to  make  them.  It's  a 
gift,  an  art,  like  everything  else.  Not  the  creating  of 
them,  of  course.  That's  a  privilege,  or  a  fatality,  as  the 
case  may  be  !  But  the  moulding  of  them,  after  they  are 
created.  You  can't  deny  that  they  complicate  things : 
and  even  at  this  stage,  I  find  marriage  a  far  more  compli- 
cated affair  than  I  imagined  it  to  be.  Didn't  you  ? " 

Honor's  smile  was  sufficient  evidence  to  the  contrary. 
But  she  was  old-fashioned  enough  to  have  a  difficulty  in 
talking  about  the  hidden  poem  of  her  life. 

"  Perhaps  we  were  exceptions,  Theo  and  I,"  she  said  at 
last.  "  We  knew  one  another  .  .  intimately,  before  start- 
ing; and  to  live  with  him,  and  .  .  in  him,  seemed  to 
come  as  natural  as  breathing.  But  then,  my  dear,  I'm 
simply  a  wife  and  a  mother:  not  a  woman  of  genius, 
like  you." 

"  Aren't  you,  indeed  ?  Don't  pulverise  me  with  sar- 
casms, please !  In  my  opinion  this  exquisite  passion  of 
yours  for  being  '  simply  a  wife  and  a  mother '  is  in  itself  a 
kind  of  genius:  perhaps  the  highest  there  is.  You  see 
and  feel  the  essential  beauty  of  both  relations  so  vividly 
that  you  make  one  see  and  feel  it  also ;  just  as  certain 
other  kinds  of  women  make  one  half -ashamed  of  being  a 
woman  at  all !  Yours  is  the  temperament  that  gives, 
Honor,  .  .  gives  royally ;  and  is  always  sure  of  return 
because  it  looks  for  none.  While  as  for  me,  my  present 
complications  are  the  natural  outcome, — multiplied  by  six 
years, — of  my  long-ago  blindness  and  folly,  that  sprang 
from  my  capacity  for  taking,  without  a  thought  of  giving 
in  return.  You  see,  Eldred  and  I  have  both  an  ample 
time  to  crystallise  in  different  directions :  and  the  years 
we  let  slip  may  be  trusted  to  exact  their  debt  to  the 
uttermost  farthing. — Ah,  there  he  is ! " 

The  words  were  a  mere  throb  of  the  heart.  She  was 
on  her  feet  when  the  man  entered :  and  Honor,  watching 


296  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

her  face,  thought  she  had  never  seen  it  so  nearly  beauti- 
ful. She  herself  rose  also,  with  a  prompt  excuse  for 
departure. 

"  I  haven't  even  seen  Theo  since  breakfast,"  she  said  as 
they  shook  hands.  "Tent-pegging  days  are  hopeless: 
and  I  promised  to  go  down  early.  Don't  trouble  to  come 
out  with  me,  please." 

But  Lenox  insisted :  and  on  his  return  found  Quita 
back  at  her  canvas,  to  all  appearance  working  diligently 
at  a  difficult  bit  of  detail  in  one  corner.  She  greeted  him 
with  lifted  brows. 

"  Finished  your  article  already  ? " 

"  No." 

"  Then  what  on  earth  are  you  doing,  loafing  about  in 
here  ?  I'm  busy.  1  want  to  get  this  bit  done  before  I 
go  out." 

"  Do  you  though  ? "  but  instead  of  retreating,  he  came 
closer,  deliberately  confiscated  palette  and  brushes,  and 
drew  her  into  his  arms. 

"  Shall  I  send  Desmond  a  '  chit,'  to  say  '  I  have  married 
a  wife,  and  therefore  I  cannot  come '  ? " 

"  Yes, — do.     He'll  forgive  you." 

"  And  shall  we  go  for  a  long  ride  across  country,  when 
I'm  through  with  my  work :  and  look  in  at  the  tent- 
pegging  later?" 

For  answer  she  leaned  against  him  with  a  sigh  of 
content. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

"  Elfin  and  human,  airy  and  true  ; 

Your  flowers  and  thorns  you  bring  with  you." 

— R.  L.  S. 

BUT  the  stumbling-block  reasserted  itself,  and  prevailed. 

The  articles  on  Tibet  were  solid  affairs,  for  a  solid 
journal ;  twelve  of  them,  to  be  paid  for  on  acceptance ; 
and  since  Lenox  needed  the  money  to  clear  off  debts  in- 
curred when  furnishing  and  pay  for  their  trip  to  Kashmir, 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  297 

he  decided  to  get  them  written  as  soon  as  might  be,  before 
the  stealthy  increase  of  heat  made  mental  effort  a  burden. 
Thus,  while  the  Battery  absorbed  his  mornings,  Tibet 
made  unlawful  inroads  upon  his  afternoons  and  evenings ; 
and  the  narrow  margin  of  leisure  thus  left  to  him  did  not 
by  any  means  satisfy  Quita's  healthy  appetite  for  com- 
panionship. More  than  once  she  attempted  remonstrance, 
pitched  in  the  wrong  key,  only  to  be  routed  by  the  un- 
answerable argument  that  the  work  must  be  done,  and 
that  there  was  no  other  time  in  which  to  do  it.  Finally, 
in  a  mood  between  pride  and  resignation,  she  shrugged 
her  shoulders  and  turned  elsewhere  for  companionship; 
for  interests  to  fill  the  long  hours  which  Eldred's  devotion 
to  work  left  empty  on  her  hands. 

And  here,  in  a  virtue  pushed  to  the  confines  of  vice,  in 
the  man's  blind  unintentional  neglect  of  the  woman  for 
whom  he  would  wring  the  last  blood-drop  out  of  his 
heart,  you  have  the  nucleus  of  more  than  half  the  pitiful 
domestic  tragedies  of  India.  It  is  the  crucial  moment, 
the  genesis  of  a  hundred  unsuspected  possibilities,  this  first 
divergence  of  the  man  and  woman,  along  separate  paths 
of  interest.  Love  may  be  strong  enough  to  stand  the 
strain,  but  it  will  be  love  debarred  from  that  intimate 
fusion  of  heart  and  brain  which  alone  constitutes  true 
marriage.  The  other  kind  is  at  best  a  permanent '  friend- 
ship recognised  by  the  police': — a  tacit  confession  of 
failure  which  this  high-hearted,  if  contrarious  couple  were 
by  no  means  minded  to  arrive  at,  now  or  ever.  But  there 
is  no  warning  sign-post  at  the  turn  of  the  road;  and 
already  their  feet  were  nearing  it,  without  knowledge  that 
its  easy  gradient  slips  into  the  Valley  of  Dry  Bones. 

Quita,  however,  was  in  a  better  case  than  many  wives 
so  circumstanced ;  in  that  her  art  was  no  mere  distraction 
for  spare  hours,  but  a  living  reality ;  though,  unhappily,  a 
capricious  one.  And  now  when  she  would  have  returned 
to  it  in  earnest  after  months  of  philandering  with  brush 
and  pencil,  it  stood  aloof,  unmanageable  as  Eldred  him- 
self !  She  was  too  genuinely  an  artist  to  attempt  the 
completion  of  an  imaginative  picture  against  the  stream ; 
and  for  fresh  work,  fresh  mental  stimulus  was  needed. 
This  was  not  readily  to  be  found  in  the  everyday  hap- 


298  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

penings — the  riding,  tennis,  and  gatherings  at  the  Club 
Gardens — that  made  up  the  cold -weather  life  at  Dera 
Ishmael:  and  she  had  little  taste  for  small  social  or 
domestic  amenities,  in  themselves.  The  call  of  the  wild 
was  in  her  blood.  One  might  as  well  hope  to  domesticate 
a  sea-gull  as  a  woman  of  this  type.  She  managed  her 
household  on  broad  lines,  ignoring  minor  details,  and 
Zyarulla,  to  his  secret  relief,  found  himself  still  the  lynx- 
eyed  custodian  of  the  Sahib's  Izzat l  in  houses  and  com- 
pound, still  the  controller  of  his  petty  cash.  Quita  re- 
ceived his  monthly  account — plus  a  minute  percentage 
on  each  item — in  perfect  good  faith.  His  visions  of 
possible  dismissal  evaporated.  He  heartily  commended 
his  master's  choice  of  a  wife ;  and,  in  moments  of  expan- 
sion over  the  evening  hookah,  confided  to  the  Khansamah 
— a  friend  and  ally  in  the  matter  of  accounts — his  con- 
viction that  Mem  Sahibs  who  made  pictures  were  of  a 
different  jdt  to  those  who  played  tennis,  harried  their 
ayahs,  and  rode  rough-shod  over  the  sensibilities  of  honest 
bearers  like  himself ! 

And,  in  truth,  the  Bohemian  and  cosmopolitan  elements 
in  Quita  made  her  airily  contemptuous  of  trifles,  of  the 
petty  point  of  view,  the  'local'  attitude  of  mind  often 
found  in  isolated  Indian  stations,  more  especially  among 
the  women.  And  setting  aside  Honor  and  Frank,  the 
half-dozen  officers'  wives  belonging  to  the  Infantry 
Eegiments  were  for  the  most  part  colourless  average 
types  of  femininity  such  as  Quita  was  something  too 
ready  to  despise. 

But  the  woman  element  had  never  played  a  large  part 
in  her  life ;  and  it  was  to  the  men  she  turned  instinctively 
for  mental  companionship;  for  the  larger  outlook,  the 
saner  grasp  of  things  big  and  small.  She  drew  them  by 
a  natural  magnetism;  and  held  them  by  a  talent  for 
comradeship  which  never  degenerated  into  familiarity  or 
freedom.  The  four  Battery  subalterns,  headed  by  Kich- 
ardson,  surrendered  at  discretion.  And  there  were  others 
also;  notably  George  Eivers,  Desmond's  subaltern,  a 
promising  Lothario  with  a  profile,  a  tenor  voice,  and 
an  unimpeachable  taste  in  ties  and  waistcoats.  But 

1  Prestige. 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  299 

Quita  gave  the  preference  to  Eldred's  brother  officers ; 
and  to  their  open  delight  made  them  free  of  the  house. 
One  or  more  of  them  dined  with  her  at  least  three  nights 
a-week ;  and  her  instantaneous  gravitation  to  Max  Kich- 
ardson  had  already  resulted  in  an  informal  friendship 
equally  delightful  for  both. 

Lenox  accepted  these  developments  without  comment, 
yet  not  without  inward  regret.  For  he  craved  the  rest- 
fulness  of  quiet  evenings  alone  with  his  wife,  after  a  hard 
day's  work:  and  indeed  saw  more  than  enough  of  his 
subalterns  —  always  excepting  Dick  —  on  the  parade- 
ground  and  in  the  orderly  room  every  morning.  Very 
soon  he  took  to  excusing  himself  early,  on  these  convivial 
evenings,  with  the  result  that  before  long  the  old  habit  of 
working  at  night  had  him  in  its  clutches  once  again,  the 
charm  of  it  heightened  by  months  of  abstinence.  For  a 
while  he  held  out  against  it;  but  the  quiet  within  and 
without,  the  certainty  of  freedom  from  interruption,  the 
lucidity  of  thought  that  brains  of  a  certain  order  seem 
only  able  to  arrive  at  in  the  small  hours,  were  powerful 
advocates  for  surrender;  and  little  by  little  habit  con- 
quered. He  smoked  more  and  slept  less ;  and  the  quality 
of  his  work  improved  in  great  strides. 

But  Quita  objected  strongly  to  this  barefaced  revival  of 
'bachelor  habits'  within  six  months  of  marriage;  and 
more  than  once  —  waking  in  the  small  hours  to  find 
herself  alone — she  had  slipped  on  her  dressing-gown  and 
boldly  invaded  his  study ;  a  disarming  vision  enough,  her 
face  flushed  with  sleep,  looking  absurdly  young  in  a  halo 
of  tumbled  hair,  her  eyes  alight  with  tenderness  and 
enjoyment  of  her  own  daring.  On  each  occasion  she  was 
reproved  without  severity ;  established  herself  in  the  deck- 
lounge  of  old  days ;  fell  asleep  promptly,  and  was  carried 
protesting  back  to  bed ;  but  not  until  she  had  seen  the 
lamp  put  out  and  the  detestable  litter  of  papers  tidied  up 
for  the  night. 

In  this  fashion  the  first  half  of  March  slipped  unevent- 
fully by,  each  day  bringing  with  it  that  imperceptible 
advance  of  heat  which  strikes  an  undernote  of  dread 
through  the  rose -scented  languor  of  a  Punjab  March. 


300  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

For  in  the  vast  Northern  Plains  of  India,  it  is  autumn, 
not  spring,  that  bears  the  winged  word  of  resurrection. 
But  Quita  was  still  at  that  enviable  stage  in  love's 
progress  when  times  and  seasons  and  places  shrink  to 
mere  pin-points  beside  the  one  supreme  fact.  A  Frontier 
hot  weather  in  Eldred's  company  held  no  terrors  for  her. 
Possibly  two  months'  leave  would  be  available  later  on, 
when  they  would  spend  the  honeymoon — of  which  they 
had  been  twice  defrauded  —  in  Kashmir;  and,  in  the 
meantime,  so  long  as  one  roof  covered  them,  all  was  well ; 
in  spite  of  her  secret  wish  that  Tibet  and  the  Pamirs 
could  be  expunged  from  the  map  of  Asia  by  means  of 
a  private  deluge! 

But  if  Quita  were  inclined  to  quarrel  with  her  hus- 
band's industry,  Max  Eichardson  was  not.  He  was 
enjoying,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  the  mere  pleasant- 
ness of  a  woman's  intimate  companionship; — in  Quita's 
case  a  companionship  full  of  incident,  of  delicate  reti- 
cences, alternating  with  unexpected  revelations  of  thought 
and  feeling ;  and  through  it  all  a  frank  interest  in  every- 
thing that  concerned  himself,  which  is  perhaps  the  subtlest 
form  of  coquetry.  Not  that  Quita  meant  it  as  such.  In 
her  entire  devotion  to  her  husband,  she  simply  did  not 
consider  her  effect  upon  other  men ;  to  whom,  in  conse- 
quence, she  showed  her  true  self  almost  with  the  freedom 
and  spontaneity  of  a  child.  Richardson's  own  simplicity 
of  character,  and  the  ease  with  which  one  slips  into  a 
pleasant  path,  helped  matters  forward ;  and  before  long, 
they  had  fallen  quite  naturally  into  the  habit  of  riding  or 
driving  together  when  Lenox  happened  to  be  very  much 
engaged.  Quita  saw  no  reason  to  conceal  her  pleasure  in 
these  outings.  Lenox  thanked  his  friend  once  or  twice, 
bluntly  enough,  yet  with  evident  sincerity ;  and  Richard- 
son accepted  his  own  good  fortune  with  an  unquestioning 
appreciation  very  characteristic  of  the  man. 

His  thoughts  were  running  definitely  upon  this  pleasant 
state  of  things,  as  he  drove  Quita  Lenox  homeward 
through  the  main  street  of  the  native  city,  on  a  glowing 
evening,  some  two  weeks  after  Honor's  visit  to  the  studio. 
Behind  them  clattered  a  small  guard  of  native  police, 
without  whom  it  would  not  be  advisable  to  explore  a 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  301 

Frontier  city;  and  on  either  hand  stretched  a  narrowing 
vista  of  open  shop  fronts  noisy  with  vituperative  buyers 
and  sellers;  brilliant  with  piled  vessels  of  brass  and 
copper,  with  the  rainbow  tints  of  dyed  silks  and  muslins, 
piles  of  parched  corn  and  spices,  oranges,  bananas,  and 
pomegranates;  their  upper  storeys  breaking  out  into 
quaintly  carved  windows  and  balconies,  strange  splashes 
of  colour,  or  rough  childish  pictures,  innocent  of  propor- 
tion. And,  better  than  these,  in  Quita's  esteem,  was  the 
wide  street  itself,  packed  with  the  noisy,  leisurely  life  of 
an  Indian  city : — goats  and  cattle ;  women  and  children  ; 
open  bullock-carts  that  seemed  to  have  all  eternity  to 
travel  in;  princely  -  looking  Afghan  traders  in  long 
coats  and  peaked  turbans;  Waziris,  with  keen,  Jewish 
faces  framed  in  greasy  locks  that  fell  upon  their  shoulders  ; 
the  sais  from  his  tail-board  shouting  ineffectual  commands 
to  make  way  for  the  Sahib ;  long-legged  fowls,  leaping 
and  fluttering  up  under  the  pony's  nose ;  pariahs,  lazily 
insolent,  almost  allowing  the  wheel  to  graze  thigh-bone 
or  paw,  before  they  condescended  to  loaf  away  to  a  fresh 
resting-place ;  and  over  all  an  arch  of  blue,  so  deep  and 
passionate  as  to  be  almost  vocal ;  and  pervading  all,  the 
indefinable,  unforgettable  smell  of  the  East: — a  smell 
compounded  of  musk,  spices,  open  drains,  and  humanity. 

When  at  last  they  emerged  into  the  open,  and  quickened 
their  pace,  Quita  drew  a  breath  of  satisfaction,  and 
smiled  up  at  her  companion,  who  allowed  his  eyes  to 
linger  in  hers  a  moment  longer  than  the  occasion  re- 
quired. 

Their  outing  had  been  an  unusually  long  one;  for 
whenever  she  could  find  her  way  into  the  city  Quita  was 
insatiable.  Again  and  again  Eichardson  had  sat  waiting 
in  the  sun,  while  she  made  thumb-nail  sketches  of  street 
corners,  bargained  with  curio-sellers  for  the  Alexander 
coins  and  relics  which  abound  at  Dera  Ishmael,  or 
extracted  information  from  shy,  smiling  women,  whose 
faces  happened  to  take  her  fancy  in  passing. 

"  You  have  been  a  miracle  of  patience ! "  she  assured 
him,  as  they  neared  cantonments.  "  And  I  daresay  you 
hated  it  half  the  time,  and  scorned  my  globe-trotter 
behaviour !  I've  noticed  how  quickly  most  Anglo-Indians 


302  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

get  bored  if  one  asks  questions,  or  shows  the  smallest 
interest  in  the  country  and  the  people." 

"  Probably  they  don't  enjoy  airing  their  own  ignorance," 
he  suggested,  with  lazy  amusement  in  his  eyes.  Tm  not 
bored  with  you,  though.  Shouldn't  be,  even  if  you  were 
to  pelt  me  with  questions  till  midnight." 

She  laughed  lightly. 

"  Don't  dare  me  to  put  you  to  the  test !  It  might  make 
us  enemies  for  life.  And  it's  really  capital  that  we  get 
on  so  well.  Just  think  how  awkward  for  Eldred  if  I 
had  taken  one  of  my  strong  unreasoning  dislikes  to 
you!" 

"  Still  more  awkward  for  me !  I  never  thought  you 
carried  hidden  weapons  of  that  sort  about  with  you." 

"Wait  till  you  know  me  better.  I  am  a  hopeless 
creature  of  extremes !  You  can't  think  how  I  hated 
my  dear  Honor  Desmond  last  year, — though  I'd  cut  off 
a  hand  for  her  now ;  nor  how  I  still  hate  .  .  .  some  one 
I  have  never  seen; — some  one  who  wrote  to  Eldred  — 
about  me — years  ago." 

She  broke  off,  remembering  that  in  his  eyes  she  had 
only  been  married  nine  months ;  though  if  she  had  been 
looking  at  him  instead  of  contemplating  the  hands  that 
lay  clasped  in  her  lap,  she  must  have  noticed  his  start, 
the  sudden  tension  of  his  face  and  figure.  Lenox  had 
never  told  her,  then.  He  might  have  guessed  as  much. 
And  why  should  she  ever  know,  after  all  ?  His  native 
honesty  prompted  him  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  and 
ask  her  forgiveness.  But  something  stronger,  —  a  new 
imperative  desire  to  stand  well  with  her  at  any  price, 
— held  him  silent.  Presently,  she  glanced  up  at  him 
curiously;  but  his  straight  -  featured  profile  and  steady 
hands  upon  the  reins  revealed  nothing  beyond  a  moment- 
ary abstraction  of  thought. 

"I  forgot,  when  I  spoke  just  now,"  she  said  in  a 
changed  voice — a  voice  of  closer  intimacy — "that  you 
don't  know  how  long  we  have  really  been  married, — do 
you?" 

"  Yes,  I  do  know,"  he  answered,  still  intent  upon  the 
pony.  Every  moment  made  him  more  exquisitely  un- 
comfortable. But  he  could  not  lie  to  her. 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  303 

"Did  my  husband  tell  you?"  she  flashed  out  almost 
angrily. 

"  No,  indeed.  He's  not  that  sort.  I — found  out  by 
chance." 

"  How  strange !  Another  man  did  the  same.  One  can 
never  keep  a  secret  in  this  world.  Well — it  was  the 
letter  I  spoke  of  that  did  all  the  harm;  that  broke  up 
everything  between  us  for  five  years.  Can  you  wonder 
that  I've  never  forgiven  the  writer,  and  never  shall  ?  Not 
because  he  wrote  unfairly  of  me,  but  because  of  all  that 
Eldred  suffered  then,  and  afterwards." 

"  Did  you  never  make  allowance  for  the  fact  that  he 
could  not  have  known  how  things  were  between  you, — 
that  he  meant  no  harm?" 

"  I'm  afraid  I  made  no  allowances ;  though  I'm  quite 
aware  that,  speaking  justly,  one  can't  blame  him.  Prob- 
ably Eldred  never  did.  But  I  told  you  my  dislikes  were 
unreasonable ;  and  it  makes  me  hate  him  to  think  that 
he  was  quite  happy  away  there  in  England  all  those  five 
years,  while  Eldred  was  half -killing  himself  with  work  and 
misery." 

"  Yes.  I  understand  that.  But  it's  all  over  now ;  and 
the  harm's  repaired." 

"  I  hope  so,  in  a  measure ;  though  it's  my  belief  that 
harm  done  can  never  really  be  repaired ;  only  patched 
up." 

"  That's  a  very  terrible  doctrine,  Mrs  Lenox." 

"  I'm  afraid  facts  go  to  prove  the  truth  of  it." 

Although  she  spoke  quietly,  a  touch  of  hardness  had 
invaded  her  voice ;  and  Eichardson  had  no  answer  to  give 
her.  His -cheerful,  easy-going  nature  had  rarely  been  so 
deeply  stirred.  A  new  and  delightful  experience  seemed 
to  be  taking  an  unlooked-for  turn,  and  his  lame  attempts 
at  self-defence  in  the  third  person  struck  him  as  bordering 
on  the  grotesque.  He  set  his  teeth  and  flicked  the  pony 
viciously ;  then  hauled  at  his  mouth  because  he  broke  into 
a  canter.  Yet  he  was  a  tender-hearted  man. 

"  Poor  little  beast !  Don't  treat  him  like  that,"  she 
rebuked  him,  between  jest  and  earnest.  "  What's  wrong  ? 
The  city  seems  to  have  disagreed  with  you." 

Again  he  did  not  answer :  and  for  a  time  they  drove  on 


304  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

without  speaking,  each,  if  the  truth  be  told,  thinking  of 
the  other.  Then  she  startled  him  with  one  of  her  direct, 
inconsequent  questions. 

"  Mr  Eichardson,  how  old  are  you  ? " 

He  laughed. 

"  Just  thirty.     Why  ? " 

"  I  was  only  wondering.  You're  the  sort  of  man  who 
ought  to  marry.  Have  you  never  thought  of  it  yet  ? " 

"  No.  Too  little  money.  Besides,  I'm  a  lazy  beggar, 
and  I  shirk  the  responsibility." 

"  That  means  you've  never  been  in  love ! " 

"  I  suppose  not.  Nothing  more  Serious  than  a  passing 
inclination.  Mere  growing  pains ! "  He  smiled  at  the 
remembrance  of  a  certain  romantic  episode  in  his  early 
twenties.  "What's  your  notion?  Have  I  been  over- 
dosing you  with  my  company  that  you  are  so  keen  to 
marry  me  off?" 

"  Don't  talk  nonsense.  I  was  simply  thinking  of  you. 
You've  the  right  stuff  in  you  for  a  husband.  But  person- 
ally, I  prefer  you  unattached.  I  should  probably  quarrel 
with  your  wife ;  and  she  would  break  up  our  friendship ; 
which  would  be  a  thousand  pities." 

"  Mrs  Lenox — d'you  mean  that  ?  Do  you  really  value 
it  one  little  bit  ? " 

His  repressed  eagerness  puzzled  her,  and  she  lifted  her 
eyebrows.  "  But  yes,  mon  ami  I  Would  I  go  about  with 
you  so  much  if  I  didn't  ?  I  have  failings  enough,  Heaven 
knows,  but  insincerity  is  not  one  of  them.  By  the  way, 
am  I  to  put  you  on  my  other  side  to-night?  Wouldn't 
you  prefer  Mrs  Norton,  or  Mrs  Lacy  Smith  for  a  change  ? 
I  couldn't  get  the  Desmonds ;  and  Eldred  hates  my  poor 
little  party  in  consequence." 

"  So  shall  I,  if  you  banish  me  from  your  end  of  the 
table." 

"  Well,  that  settles  it.  Two  conspicuously  large  men 
in  open  mutiny  would  be  more  than  the  rest  of  us  could 
stand!" 

They  swerved  in  between  the  gate-posts,  and  drew  rein 
as  she  spoke.  The  sound  of  their  wheels  had  brought 
Lenox  into  the  verandah. 

"  It's  high  time  you  were  back  again,  you  two,"  he  said, 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  305 

with  a  touch  of  decision,  as  he  lifted  his  wife  from  the 
cart.  "  I  was  wondering  what  had  come  to  you.  See 
you  again  at  eight,  Dick." 

And  Kichardson,  having  quite  recovered  from  his  bad 
quarter  of  an  hour,  drove  off  humming  the  refrain  of  a 
song  Quita  had  sung  to  him  a  few  evenings  back.  After 
all,  so  long  as  she  liked  him,  and  valued  his  friendship, 
she  was  welcome  to  hate  the  supposed  unknown,  whose 
identity  she  must  never  be  allowed  to  guess. 

Meanwhile  Lenox  and  his  wife  went  on  into  the  house, 
Quita  disarming  reproof  by  instant  apology.  "  It  was 
delightful ;  but  I'm  sorry  we  were  away  too  long,  dear." 

He  smiled  contentedly  down  upon  her.  "  Well — there 
are  limits !  Where  on  earth  did  you  go  ? " 

"  All  through  the  city  again,  and  I  unearthed  endless 
treasures.  You'd  have  loved  it." 

"  Of  course  I  should.  Great  fool  that  I  was  not  to 
chuck  the  writing  and  take  you  myself!" 

"  Oh,  if  you  only  would,  a  little  oftener ! " 

Something  in  her  tone  smote  him;  and  putting  both 
hands  on  her  shoulders,  he  bent  towards  her,  pain  and 
passion  in  his  eyes. 

"  Darling,  tell  me,  have  I  been  neglecting  you  lately  ? " 

Her  low  laughter  reassured  him.  "  Neglecting  me  ? 
Dear  stupid !  D'you  suppose  I'd  sit  down  under  it  if 
you  did?  Now  I'm  going  to  change  for  dinner;  and 
do  please  make  yourself  agreeable  to  Mrs  Norton  this 
evening." 

For  the  Deputy  Commissioner's  wife  was  honouring  her 
husband  with  a  flying  visit,  before  going  north  to  spend 
the  season  in  Simla. 

"  The  devil  take  Mrs  Norton.     Odious  woman  ! " 

"No,  —  it's  you  that  will  have  to  take  her!"  she 
answered,  laughing.  "And  it's  not  my  fault  that  you 
won't  have  your  beautiful  Honor  on  the  other  side  to 
keep  the  balance  true." 

Quita  enjoyed  her  little  dinner,  and  saw  to  it  that 
others  did  likewise.  She  was  a  natural -born  hostess. 
Talk  never  flagged  in  her  neighbourhood,  and  her  own 
lack  of  self-consciousness  set  the  stiffest  and  shyest  at 
their  ease.  Besides,  she  always  enjoyed  talking  to 

u 


306  THE  GREAT   AMULET. 

Norton,  whose  cynicism  and  critical  attitude  she  dis- 
armed by  the  simple  means  of  ignoring  them.  She  liked 
the  man's  plain,  hard-featured  face,  ploughed  with  deep 
lines  of  thought  and  effort,  and  only  redeemed  from  ugli- 
ness by  his  remarkable  eyes. 

"  Stoking  up ! "  he  remarked  grimly,  sipping  his  soup 
with  a  keen  appreciation  of  its  quality.  "  Punkahs  and 
hell-fire  again  in  no  time.  One  hardly  has  time  to  cool 
down  before  the  winter  slips  away.  Mrs  Norton's  off  to 
Simla  in  ten  days ;  and  I  suppose  you'll  be  bolting  also 
by  the  end  of  next  month  ? " 

She  laughed,  and  shook  her  head.  "  If  you're  counting 
on  getting  my  husband  to  chum  with  you  this  hot  weather, 
I'm  afraid  you'll  be  disappointed." 

He  eyed  her  quizzically  for  a  moment. 

"  Of  course — I  forgot.  You're  a  new  broom !  If  I 
meet  you  in  March  three  or  four  years  hence,  I  shall  hear 
another  story." 

"  And  enjoy  the  triumph  of  your  own  cynicism  !  Very 
well,  I  accept  your  challenge.  I  shall  write  to  you  three 
years  from  now,  just  to  tell  you  how  the  land  lies." 

"  Do.  And  if  you  forget,  I  shall  hear  of  you  from  some 
one  else.  We  know  all  one  another's  little  doings  in  this 
corner  of  the  world.  I  feel  curious  about  you,  and 
prophesy  that  Simla  and  amateur  theatricals  will  carry 
the  day ;  though  for  Lenox's  sake  I  hope  all  the  triumph 
will  be  on  your  side.  But  it's  no  light  matter,  I  can  tell 
you,  to  win  your  spurs  as  a  Frontier  officer's  wife  of  the 
right  quality." 

"  Like  Mrs  Desmond,  for  instance  ? " 

"  Quite  so.     Like  Mrs  Desmond." 

"  I  notice  all  the  cynicism  goes  out  of  your  voice  when 
you  speak  of  her.  Yet  you  can  make  insulting  prophecies 
about  me,  at  my  own  table  too !  Am  I  so  immeasurably 
inferior  ? " 

"  That  remains  to  be  seen !  You  have  still  to  be  tested 
in  the  furnace,  and  no  imaginary  furnace  either.  Man  or 
woman,  staying  power's  the  great  requisite  for  India,  Mrs 
Lenox.  To  pull  through  for  half  a  dozen  hot  weathers  is 
all  very  well, — mere  getting  one's  hand  in.  But  by  the 
time  a  man  has  completed  his  twentieth  he  begins  to 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  307 

know  something  about  the  weakness  of  the  flesh.  I  seem 
to  you,  with  your  youth  and  high  courage,  a  cynical,  dis- 
agreeable fellow  enough.  But  perhaps  when  you  are 
middle-aged  and  disillusioned,  and  all  the  good  blood  in 
your  veins  has  been  dried  up  by  fever,  you'll  forgive  my 
straight  speaking  to-night;  though  by  then  I  shall  be  a 
forgotten  old  fogey,  eating  my  heart  out  in  England,  or  I 
shall  have  dropped  in  harness,  which  would  be  the  kinder 
fate  of  the  two." 

"  Indeed  I  have  forgiven  you  already,"  she  answered  in 
a  softened  tone;  and  involuntarily  her  eyes  sought  the 
handsome  heavy -featured  woman  beside  her  husband, 
whose  Paris  dinner-dress  was  cut  lower  than  need  be, 
and  whose  elaborate  'fringe'  rather  too  obviously  grew 
off  her  head. 

"  Thank  you.  It's  more  than  I  deserve ;  and  I'm  sorry 
I  must  repay  you  by  giving  'you  your  first  taste  of  the 
pleasant  little  surprises  that  are  a  main  feature  of 
Frontier  life.  I  have  to  go  off  across  the  Border  early 
next  week,  to  fix  the  position  of  a  post  we  are  going  to 
build  for  our  Mahsud  levies,  and  to  collect  a  fine  from 
some  rascals  who  have  been  raiding  Tank." 

"Where's  that?" 

"  An  unlucky  village  near  the  Gomal  Pass, — the  great 
trade  route  into  the  hills.  It  gets  burnt  to  the  ground 
periodically  by  the  Waziris,  probably  much  to  its  ad- 
vantage; but  one  can't  overlook  the  insult  to  British 
authority.  So  I'm  obliged  to  visit  them  in  state  and  talk 
to  them  like  a  father,  after  collecting  their  fine ;  and  I'm 
afraid  I  must  take  your  husband  and  Eichardson  along 
with  me,  besides  a  handful  of  cavalry  and  infantry  by 
way  of  protection  and  prestige." 

Quita's  face  fell.  "  For  how  long  ? "  she  asked,  collect- 
ing her  last  crumbs  of  pastry  with  a  peculiar  deliberation. 

"We  might  be  ten  days  coming  and  going.  Not 
more." 

"  And — would  there  be  fighting  ? " 

"  Probably  not.  It's  a  peaceful  deputation.  But  peace 
armed  to  the  teeth  is  the  only  kind  the  Waziri  under- 
stands ;  and  he  can't  always  control  his  rifle  when  he  finds 
the  eternally  aggressive  white  man  taking  liberties  with 


308  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

his  sacred  hills !  We  shan't  be  sorry  for  a  whiff  of  cool 
air  any  of  us;  and  you  won't  be  the  only  injured  wife. 
Colonel  Montague,  of  the  Sikhs,  comes  with  us ;  and  I'm 
going  to  rob  Mrs  Desmond  of  her  preux  chevalier  also.  I 
only  want  half  a  squadron,  but  I  shall  make  special 
request  for  Desmond.  He's  a  capital  man  to  have  handy 
in  case  of  accidents.  As  for  Lenox,  he'll  be  delighted,  if 
that's  any  consolation  to  you." 

"Well,  naturally,"  she  faced  him  now,  eyes  and  lips 
under  control.  "  Besides,  ten  days  is  nothing.  One  has 
to  make  a  beginning;  and  it  might  have  been  ever  so 
much  worse." 

"That's  the  plucky  way  to  look  at  it,"  he  said  in 
evident  approval;  and  Quita  rather  abruptly  changed 
the  subject. 

The  evening  that  followed  was  a  remarkably  cheerful 
affair,  imbued  with  that  spirit  of  friendly  informality 
which  makes  the  little  dinners  of  India  live  long  in  the 
memory.  OTlannagan  had  brought  his  banjo.  Eivers 
and  Richardson  both  sang  creditably ;  and  Quita  herself 
was  in  one  of  her  '  inspired '  moods.  Only  Mrs  Norton, 
having  deposited  her  grey  satin  magnificence  upon  the 
sofa,  protested  mutely  against  what  she  considered  a 
tendency  to  '  rowdyism '  in  her  hostess ;  flirted  —  intel- 
lectually— with  any  one  who  had  the  hardihood  to  sit 
near  her ;  and  on  the  stroke  of  ten  rose  with  a  suppressed 
yawn  and  a  transparently  insincere  little  speech  about  an 
enjoyable  evening. 

"Begad,  but  her  works  want  oiling  badly!" 
OTlannagan  confided  to  Quita,  as  the  last  shimmering 
morsel  of  her  train  slid  out  of  sight.  "  She's  one  o' 
your  immaculate  Englishwomen  who  give  me  the  blues. 
Come  on,  Mrs  Lenox.  Thank  Heaven  for  the  dash  of 
ould  Ireland  in  you;  and  let's  begin  to  enjoy  ourselves!" 

From  that  moment  the  evening  took  a  new  lease  of  life. 
Two  battery  subalterns  came  over  from  mess,  and  it  was 
close  on  midnight  when  Lenox,  returning  from  his  final 
duties  in  the  verandah,  found  Quita  standing  by  the 
mantelpiece,  her  cheeks  flushed,  her  eyes  radiating 
enjoyment. 

"  Thank  the  Lord  that's  over ! "  he  ejaculated  fervently, 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  309 

flinging  himself  into  a  deep  arm-chair ;  and  she  turned 
on  him  promptly,  with  a  visible  ruffling  of  her  feathers. 

"  Eldred,  you're  positively  inhuman.  When  you  talk 
like  that  you  make  me  want  to  hit  you!" 

She  stood  above  him,  threatening  him  with  one  slim 
hand ;  but  Lenox,  reaching  up  lazily,  grasped  her  arms 
below  the  elbow,  and  gently  but  irresistibly  forced  her  on 
to  her  knees. 

"  Hit  out,  lass,  if  you've  a  mind  to,"  he  said  good- 
humouredly.  "  I  swear  I  won't  retaliate  ! " 

She  struggled  for  freedom  ;  but  he  held  her  in  a  vice. 

"  You  great  schoolboy, — let  me  go  ! "  she  commanded, 
between  laughter  and  vexation.  "  I  don't  care  if  you  do 
hate  dinner  parties.  I  must  have  them  sometimes.  I 
love  to  see  people  enjoying  themselves  as  they  all  did  to- 
night, except  that  odious  Mrs  Norton,  who  doesn't  count. 
You're  not  pliable  enough.  That's  what's  the  matter 
with  you.  But  if  I  live  to  a  hundred  and  twenty  you'd 
never  make  a  hermit  out  of  me!" 

"And  if  you  gave  a  party  every  night  of  your  life 
you'd  never  make  a  society  man  out  of  me.  I  should 
simply  apply  for  a  trans-frontier  billet,  where  wives  are 
not  admitted.  But  look  here,  little  woman,  did  Norton 
tell  you  about  next  week  ? " 

"  Of  course  he  did.  You'll  be  gone  in  three  or  four 
days.  It's  hateful.  Do  let  me  have  my  arms  back, 
darling." 

And  he  surrendered  this  time. 

"  Are  you  sleepy  ? "  she  asked,  her  eyes,  full  of  laugh- 
ter, resting  in  his. 

"  Lord,  no.  I'm  going  to  sit  up  and  put  in  two  hours 
work  at  least  before  turning  in." 

"  Indeed  you'll  do  no  such  thing.  You're  going  to  sit 
up  and  talk  to  me.  I  didn't  like  to  bother  Mr  Norton ; 
but  I've  a  hundred  questions  to  ask  you  about  it  all." 

"  Haztir  ke  kushi  ! l  Ask  away.  Only  let  me  get  at  my 
pipe,  and  I'm  at  your  service." 

He  filled  and  lighted  it  with  leisurely  satisfaction ;  and 
Quita,  settling  herself  on  the  carpet  beside  him,  her  face 
looking  into  his,  her  bright  head  laid  against  his  knee, 

1  As  your  Honour's  pleases. 


310  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

kept  him  talking  of  Border  politics  and  Border  warfare 
till  all  thought  of  putting  in  two  hours'  work  was  out  of 
the  question. 


CHAPTEE    XXVIII. 

"  The  work  is  with  us  ;  the  event  is  with  Allah." 

— KIPLING. 

"  SHADE,  water,  grass  .  .  .  Not  half  a  bad  place  for  a 
picnic,  eh,  Major  ?  And  I  hope  that  plausible -looking 
scoundrel,  talking  to  Norton,  has  provided  a  decent  break- 
fast for  us.  Five  hours  of  marching  in  this  air  puts  an 
edge  on  a  fellow's  appetite." 

Eichardson's  remark  was  addressed  to  Desmond, — now 
a  Major  of  six  months'  standing, — whose  practised  eye 
was  critically  surveying  the  camping-ground  assigned  by 
the  local  magnate,  Nussar  Ali  Khan,  to  the  seven  British 
officers  and  their  handful  of  native  troops. 

The  site  chosen  was  the  topmost  of  two  wide  terraces 
descending  to  a  stream,  from  whose  farther  bank  a  great 
hill  rose  abruptly,  dark  with  pine  and  ilex,  and  cleft  into 
a  formidable  nullah.  On  the  right,  flat  house-tops  of  a 
walled  native  village  overlooked  the  terrace,  with  its 
inviting  group  of  trees,  beneath  which  breakfast  was  in 
preparation.  On  the  left  another  elevation,  crowned  with 
huts ;  behind  them  an  open  field,  sloping  to  a  ten-foot 
wall ;  and  above  the  wall  the  ubiquitous  watch-tower  of 
the  Border  glowered  like  a  frown  upon  the  face  of  peace. 
The  impedimenta  of  the  little  force, — transport,  field- 
hospital,  and  camp-followers, — still  trailed  along  a  narrow 
lane  leading  from  the  kotal,1  over  which  they  had  come, 
to  the  terrace  itself.  Already  grey  films  of  wood-smoke 
soared,  plume-like,  into  the  blue ;  and  the  air  at  ten  of 
the  morning  was  still  keen  with  the  sharpness  of  a  small 
frost  at  high  altitudes. 

"  Not  half  a  bad  place  for  a  picnic,"  Desmond  admitted 
1  Hill. 


THE    VALLEY    OF   DECISION.  311 

mentally ;  though  for  several  reasons,  this  man, — who  was 
a  Frontier  soldier  by  instinct  and  heritage, — would 
scarcely  have  chosen  it  himself. 

But  stringent  military  precautions  were  no  part  of 
the  programme :  Norton's  escort  of  half  a  squadron,  two 
guns,  and  five  hundred  Sikhs  and  Punjabis,  being  little 
more  than  a  necessary  appendage  to  a  peaceful  visitation. 
Such  commonplaces  of  Frontier  government  as  the  en- 
forcing of  a  fine,  and  the  choosing  of  a  site  for  an  outpost 
manned  by  friendly  tribesmen,  was  unlikely  to  cause 
friction  or  stir  up  strife ;  and  Norton,  standing  apart 
from  the  group  of  officers  in  khaki,  was  listening  politely 
to  Nussar  Ali  Khan  and  his  friends, — some  half  a  dozen 
Maliks  from  the  fortified  villages  scattered  among  the 
hills.  Spare,  muscular  men,  all  of  them,  in  peaked  caps 
and  turbans,  sheep-skin  coats,  and  voluminous  trousers, 
girded  by  the  formidable  Pathan  belt,  with  its  pouches, 
dagger,  and  straight-handled  sword ;  their  bearded  faces  t 
lighted  up,  as  they  talked,  by  flashes  of  white  teeth ;  most 
of  them  towering  half  a  head  above  the  squarely-built 
Englishman,  with  the  jaw  of  a  bull-dog  and  the  eyes  of 
a  hawk,  who  understood  their  language,  their  strange 
mingling  of  courage  and  cruelty,  of  simplicity  and  cun- 
ning, as  a  man  only  understands  that  to  which  he  has 
devoted  a  lifetime  of  labour  and  thought. 

Lower  down,  under  the  lee  of  the  village  wall,  a  local 
jirgak1  sat  watching  the  influx  of  troops  with  non-com- 
mittal indifference,  waiting  to  come  forward  and  protest 
their  devotion  to  the  White  Queen  and  the  Burra  Sahib ; 
their  entire  readiness  to  be  bound  over  by  the  Maliks' 
proposals,  and,  in  effect,  to  behave  themselves  till  next 
time !  The  utmost  guarantee  of  good  conduct  that  will 
ever  be  wrung  out  of  the  lawless  sons  of  the  North- 
western hills. 

"  It  is  enough,  Khan  Sahib,"  Norton  said  at  length, 
cutting  short  a  string  of  compliments  that  he  knew  by 
heart.  "  Let  the  jirgah  come  to  me  and  make  their  state- 
ment while  breakfast  is  preparing." 

But  the  Khan,  indicating  with  a  sweep  of  his  arm  the 
limitless  time  at  their  disposal,  declared  that  a  matter  so 

1  Tribal  council. 


312  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

trifling  could  very  well  wait  till  the  Presence  and  the 
officer  Sahibs  had  refreshed  themselves. 

"  It  is  well  known  among  our  people,  Haziir,"  he  con- 
cluded, "  that  your  Honour  regardeth  not  food  or  rest  when 
work  remaineth  to  be  done.  But  the  matter  hath  already 
been  peacefully  settled  with  these  men.  Moreover,  there 
be  the  officer  Sahibs  also,  desiring  breakfast ;  and  my  son 
hath  commanded  everything  of  the  best  for  your  Honour's 
reception :  even  wood  and  grass  in  abundance,  that  labour 
might  be  spared." 

Having  struck  camp  before  six  that  morning,  Norton 
needed  no  further  pressing:  and  ten  minutes  later  the 
eight  Englishmen  were  breakfasting  heartily  on  provisions 
that  atoned  in  quantity  for  lack  of  quality. 

Besides  Desmond  and  the  Gunners,  the  Deputy  Commis- 
sioner, who  knew  how  to  pick  his  men,  had  secured  Unwin 
and  Montague  with  the  Sikhs,  a  smart  subaltern  with  the 
Punjab  Infantry,  and  Courtenay  as  medical  officer.  Be- 
hind them,  sepoys  and  sowars,  keeping  their  arms  by 
Colonel  Montague's  orders,  smoked  or  slept  at  their  ease. 
Sentries  had  been  told  off;  pickets  posted  in  front  and 
rear ;  the  screw  guns  unlimbered,  and  stationed  with 
their  infantry  escort  on  rising  ground  at  the  far  end  of 
the  field.  Scattered  groups  of  villagers,  appearing  on 
walls  and  house-tops  and  on  the  hill  to  the  left,  squatted 
on  their  heels,  watching  the  mild  tomasha  with  evident 
interest,  and  exchanging  broad  sallies  of  wit  with  the 
sepoys  by  way  of  adding  flavour  to  the  entertainment. 

Pipes,  cigars,  and  a  pleasant  sense  of  wellbeing  followed 
the  meal. 

"I  congratulate  you,  Norton,"  Montague  remarked 
between  pulls  at  a  stumpy  briar  that  was  consoling  him 
for  muscular  fowl  and  curried  leather.  "Your  Wolves 
of  the  Khanigoram  are  behaving  like  Sunday-school  chil- 
dren at  a  prize  giving !  We  can  fix  the  site  for  the  post 
when  we've  rested  a  bit  longer,  and  start  back  this  after- 
noon, eh  ? " 

"  Yes,  by  all  means.  I  have  only  to  settle  matters  with 
thejirgah." 

"  Thank  goodness,  I'm  booked  for  first  leave,"  the  other 
continued  conversationally.  He  was  a  plump,  well-cared- 


THE   VALLEY   OF    DECISION.  313 

for  little  man,  hampered  by  half  a  dozen  boys  and  girls 
clamouring  for  education  at  home,  and  was  beginning  to 
lose  his  taste  for  scratch  picnics  across  the  Border.  "  This 
sort  of  thing  sets  one  hankering  for  the  hills.  I  suppose 
you  won't  be  doing  wonders  up  Tibet  way  this  year, 
Lenox  ?  Metal  more  attractive,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing,  eh?" 

"Yes,  I  shall  stick  to  the  Battery  for  the  present," 
Lenox  answered,  ignoring  the  playful  allusion:  and 
Kichardson,  detecting  annoyance  in  the  tone,  put  in  his 
own  oar  deftly  enough. 

"Unwin's  the  lucky  beggar.  When  do  you  sail,  old 
chap?" 

"  To-day  fortnight,  praise  the  powers !  No  more  danc- 
ing attendance  on  Waziris  for  eighteen  good  months  to 
come."  He  stretched  his  cramped  legs  contentedly. 
"Those  Johnnies  on  the  wall  seem  to  be  getting  bored 
with  our  show.  We  ought  to  have  brought  a  couple  of 
banjos  along  to  amuse  their  majesties ! " 

It  was  true.  Gradually,  by  twos  and  threes,  the  villagers 
were  melting  away :  and  Desmond,  who  was  leaning 
against  a  tree  trunk  close  to  Norton,  helmet  tilted  over 
his  nose,  apparently  half  asleep,  touched  the  civilian's 
arm. 

"  I  say,  Norton,"  he  said  under  his  breath.  "  Take  your 
oath  it's  all  square  ? " 

Norton  looked  round  sharply. 

"  My  dear  man,  we've  eaten  their  food.  Ever  know  a 
Pathan  commit  a  breach  of  hospitality  ?  " 

"  No.     But  it  looks  queer." 

For  by  now  their  audience  had  practically  disappeared. 
The  village  wall  was  empty,  save  for  one  crouching  figure, 
that  sprang  suddenly  and  silently  to  its  full  height,  and 
brandished  a  bared  sword :  the  blade  flashing  like  a  helio 
in  the  strong  light. 

"  What's  the  mutlub 1  of  that  theatrical  interlude  ? " 
Richardson  demanded  with  a  laugh ;  and  was  answered 
by  a  signal  shot  from  the  watch-tower  behind. 

In  a  flash  all  eight  of  them  were  on  their  feet :  Montague 
and  Lenox  shouting  to  their  men  to  '  fall  in.' 

1  Meaning. 


314  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

The  order  was  obeyed  with  incredible  promptness.  Eut 
the  Waziris  had  the  advantage  of  playing  a  prepared  game; 
and  before  the  officers  had  time  to  disperse  a  murderous 
fire  was  poured  upon  them  from  all  sides  at  once :  from 
the  village,  the  watch-tower,  and  the  huts  on  the  left. 
Swift  as  magic  the  walls  bristled  with  picked  marksmen, 
armed  with  matchlocks,  Winchesters,  and  Martini  Henry's 
stolen  from  Border  sentries :  and  it  was  clear  that  the 
enemy  held  the  nullah  in  great  strength. 

"  Massacre,  by  God ! "  Desmond  muttered  between  his 
teeth  as  he  dodged  a  whizzing  bullet,  while  a  second 
glanced  off  his  brass  buckle,  and  buried  itself  in  the  tree 
behind  him. 

Colonel  Montague,  advancing  to  meet  his  men,  who 
came  forward  at  the  double,  fell,  mortally  wounded,  with 
two  bullets  through  his  body.  He  staggered  to  his  feet ; 
only  to  fall  again,  face  downward,  as  Desmond  and  Cour- 
tenay  hurried  up  to  him,  and — covered  by  the  fire  of  his 
Sikhs  —  carried  him  into  comparative  safety  behind  a 
stack  of  bhiisa,1  within  reach  of  the  ambulance;  his 
bugler  following  close  at  their  heels. 

"  I'm  done  for,"  he  panted,  as  they  laid  him  down. 
"Make  the  best  job  you  can  of  me;  and  prop  me  .  . 
against  the  stack.  I'll  direct  operations  .  .  while  I  can 
.  .  hold  out." 

There  was  clearly  nothing  else  to  be  done ;  and  while 
Courtenay  obeyed  the  dying  man's  injunctions,  Desmond 
made  haste  to  join  his  own  sowars,  who  were  already 
doing  smart  work  with  their  rifles,  under  Kessaldar 
Rajinder  Singh. 

By  now  the  din  was  terrific.  It  was  as  if  a  special 
department  of  hell  had  been  suddenly  opened  up.  Firing 
had  become  general  from  all  the  surrounding  hills ;  for  an 
attack  of  this  kind,  once  started,  speedily  degenerates  into 
a  matter  of  ghazd*  Every  moment  brought  fresh  rein- 
forcements to  the  Waziris ;  every  moment  their  fire  grew 
hotter ;  and  every  moment,  through  the  rattle  of  musketry 
and  the  yells  of  the  tribesmen,  came  the  deep-throated 
duet  of  the  sturdy  little  screw-guns  under  the  wall,  as 
they  pitched  shell  after  shell  into  the  nullah,  from  whose 

1  Chopped  straw.  2  Fanatical  slaughter. 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  315 

depths  a  hidden  foe  responded  with  pitiless  accuracy  and 
vigour. 

For,  simultaneously  with  Montague's  advance,  Lenox  and 
Eichardson  had  doubled  to  their  guns  through  a  hailstorm 
of  humming,  leaping  bullets.  One,  passing  through  Lenox's 
coat-sleeve,  grazed  his  upper  arm ;  while  a  second  struck 
Eichardson's  breast-pocket,  and  was  only  prevented  from 
wounding  him  mortally  by  a  pad  of  first-aid  bandages 
which  Courtenay  had  served  out  to  him,  in  joke,  two  days 
earlier.  Eeaching  the  guns  unscathed,  they  found  the 
gunners  at  their  posts,  the  infantry  escort  blazing 
merrily  and  effectively  at  the  marksmen  on  the  wall :  and 
at  once  opened  fire  on  the  nullah  with  case-shot  and 
shell. 

But  their  height  and  exposed  position  rendered  them 
too  conspicuous  to  be  missed  for  long  by  an  enemy  whose 
skill  in  picking  off  British  officers  makes  the  little  wars 
of  the  Frontier  such  cruelly  costly  affairs.  In  less  than 
two  minutes,  a  burning  pain  near  his  shoulder-blade  told 
Lenox  he  was  hit.  But  not  being  disabled,  he  paid  small 
heed  to  so  trivial  an  incident  at  the  time.  The  incessant 
firing  took  up  all  his  attention. 

Before  ten  minutes  were  out,  shells,  case-shot,  and 
shrapnel  had  all  been  exhausted.  The  Mahsuds  were 
firing  more  steadily  than  ever ;  and  on  the  terrace  itself, 
the  infantry  and  sowars  were  in  no  enviable  case. 
Unwin  had  fallen,  shot  through  the  head.  Montague 
had  momentarily  succumbed  to  pain  and  exhaustion ;  and 
Desmond,  with  little  Martin  of  the  Punjab  Infantry  and  a 
Sikh  Subadar,  was  in  command  of  affairs. 

Sudden  faintness,  and  a  damp  discomfort  down  his 
back,  warned  Lenox  that  his  wound  must  be  bleeding 
more  freely  than  he  knew.  He  gripped  the  shoulder  of  a 
gunner  standing  near  him ;  and  for  an  instant  all  things 
swam  together  before  his  eyes. 

"  Look,  Captain  Sahib,  look !  There  be  fresh  men  on 
the  hill." 

The  voice  of  the  Havildar  Major  in  his  ear  steadied  his 
senses:  and  he  saw  the  new  danger  that  threatened. 
Down  the  steep  hillside  at  their  right  rear,  a  compact 
body  of  men  leapt  cautiously  from  cover  to  cover;  an 


316  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

occasional  glint  of  sunlight  on  a  sword-blade  revealing 
their  probable  intent. 

"  I  say,  Dick,  those  devils  '11  rush  the  guns  if  we  give 
'em  half  a  chance,"  he  said,  turning  to  his  subaltern ;  and 
without  waiting  for  an  answer,  ordered  his  escort  to  cover 
the  hill,  and  prepare  for  a  volley. 

But  almost  before  the  command  could  be  obeyed, — with 
a  final  leap  and  a  dull  roar,  rising  to  a  yell  of  triumph, — 
the  Waziris  were  upon  them  at  close  quarters ;  the  front 
ranks  brandishing  long  knives,  the  rest  armed  with  match- 
locks and  rifles. 

The  Sikhs  stood  their  ground  sturdily :  as  Sikhs  may  be 
trusted  to  do  in  any  straits ;  while  the  guns,  firing  over 
their  heads,  sent  many  of  the  frenzied  fanatics  rolling  over 
and  over,  with  yells  of  a  very  different  nature. 

Then,  suddenly  .  .  Lenox  never  quite  knew  how  it 
happened  .  .  he  felt  the  earth  heave  under  him  ;  some  one 
gripped  him  from  behind :  Dick's  tall  figure,  revolver  in 
hand,  interposed  between  him  and  the  swarming  hill- 
side ;  and  the  next  instant  reeled  against  him  with  such 
violence  that  both  fell  heavily  to  the  ground.  At  once 
their  men  closed  round  them,  covering  them  with  their 
rifles;  a  Havildar  and  two  gunners  eagerly  proffering 
lengths  of  turban  for  bandages,  since  it  was  plain  that 
Richardson's  wound  in  the  thigh  was  no  light  matter. 

Startled  and  stunned  as  he  was,  Lenox  righted  himself 
speedily ;  and  kneeling  on  one  knee,  supported  his  sub- 
altern's shoulders  against  the  other,  while  a  Havildar 
roughly  bandaged  the  wounded  leg,  and  bullets  whinged 
and  whirred  on  all  sides  of  them. 

"  Dick,  you'd  no  business  to  be  there.  What  the  devil 
did  you  do  ?  "  Lenox  asked,  a  queer  vibration  in  his  voice : 
for  it  seemed  that  not  till  this  moment  had  he  understood 
the  strength  of  the  link  that  bound  him  to  the  simple- 
hearted  man  who  was  his  friend. 

"For  God's  sake  don't  plague  a  chap  with  questions 
when  he's  hard  hit.  The  thing's  done ;  and  .  ."  Richard- 
son's voice  trailed  off  inaudible, — "  it's  better  this  way  .  . 
for  her."  Then  he  roused  himself  with  an  effort.  "  We've 
crushed  the  brutes,  haven't  we  ? " 

"  Yes.     For  the  present.     The  men  behaved  splendidly. 


THE   VALLEY    OP   DECISION.  317 

Jove!  here  comes  Norton  through  the  thick  of  it  all. 
Orders  to  clear  out,  most  likely.  If  it's  that,  I  wish  to 
hell  it  had  come  five  minutes  sooner."  And  Bichardson 
murmured  inarticulate  assent. 

Norton  carried  his  message  in  his  face. 

"  The  Colonel  has  rallied  a  little,"  he  said,  after  express- 
ing sympathy  and  concern  for  the  plight  of  both  officers. 
"  And  he  agrees  with  me  that  it  is  wanton  sacrifice  of  men 
to  hold  out  any  longer.  Only  Courtenay  and  Martin  un- 
touched out  of  the  seven  of  you ;  for  Desmond's  just  had 
his  wrist  smashed,  poor  fellow.  We  must  get  back,  as 
best  we  can,  by  the  lane  and  over  the  kotal.  Desmond 
has  despatched  a  party  of  his  sowars  to  Brownlow,  of  your 
corps,  for  reinforcements  of  men  and  ammunition.  His 
post  is  only  nine  miles  off,  and  we  can  push  along  in  that 
direction.  Now  I  must  get  back  to  the  Colonel.  I'll 
let  Courtenay  know  he's  wanted :  and  send  a  stretcher 
along." 

With  his  departure,  began  the  desperate  business  of  dis- 
membering guns  and  loading  mules  under  a  sharp  fire : 
gunners,  drivers,  and  native  officers  vieing  with  each 
other  in  carrying  off  the  wounded,  repulsing  hand-to-hand 
attacks,  and  in  many  individual  acts  of  gallantry.  While 
limbering  up  the  guns  a  mule  was  shot,  and  two  wheels 
rolled  down  the  slope.  The  Havildar  in  charge  sped  after 
them,  through  pattering  bullets ;  returning  with  seventy - 
two  pounds  of  solid  metal  hanging  from  each  arm.  But 
even  as  he  flung  them  down  in  triumph,  he  rolled  over, 
with  a  bullet  through  his  chest :  while  Richardson's 
orderly  staggered  past,  carrying  the  gun  itself,  a  matter  of 
two  hundred  pounds.  Such  amazing  feats  can  flesh  and 
blood  achieve  under  the  spur  of  momentary  exaltation. 

And  at  last, — despite  the  catastrophe  of  a  stampede 
among  the  ammunition  and  ambulance  mules,  which  left 
them  poorer  by  four  thousand  rounds  and  their  field 
hospital, — the  preliminaries  were  accomplished.  Covered 
by  the  sharp  rifle  practice  of  the  infantry  and  sowars,  men, 
animals,  and  stretchers  retired,  without  precipitation  or 
disorder,  along  the  narrow  lane,  bounded  by  stone  walls 
and  rugged  hills  swarming  with  a  jubilant  enemy.  For 
at  the  first  signs  of  evacuation  the  Mahsuds  came  out  in 


318  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

greater  numbers;  harrying  and  pressing  in  upon  the 
dogged  little  column  on  all  sides,  yet  rarely  offering  a 
mark  for  riflemen ;  their  lithe  bodies  and  marvellous 
activity  enabling  them  to  find  cover  almost  anywhere. 

It  was  heart-breaking  work :  for,  in  the  soldier's  voc- 
abulary, there  is  no  more  unwelcome  word  than  retreat ; 
notwithstanding  the  fact  that  a  retreat  which  covers  all 
ranks  with  honour  and  glory  is  perhaps  the  finest  achieve- 
ment possible  in  the  great  game  of  war.  Certain  it  is 
that  the  progress  of  Norton's  broken  escort  through  that 
veritable  death-trap,  to  the  kotal  where  a  second  stand 
might  prove  feasible,  was  carried  out  by  officers  and  men 
with  the  indomitable  coolness  and  spirit  that  converts 
failure  into  'an  honourable  form  of  victory.' 

It  is  such  crises  which  test  the  mettle  of  our  native 
troops :  adding  fresh  proof,  if  more  were  needed,  of  the 
magnificent  fighting  material  that  India  has  given  into 
our  hands.  For  Colonel  Montague  had  again  lost  con- 
sciousness ;  and  Martin  having  been  shot  in  the  calf  as  he 
entered  the  lane,  the  task  of  carrying  out  all  the  details 
of  the  retirement  fell  upon  the  senior  Native  officer, 
Subadar  Hira  Singh,  under  Desmond's  orders.  He  and 
Norton,  bearing  the  joint  burden  of  responsibility,  kept 
close  together.  The  surface  cynicism  of  the  civilian  had 
been  burnt  up  in  the  fire  of  healthy  savage  action ;  and 
at  odd  moments,  when  ordinary  speech  was  possible,  his 
admiration  for  the  conduct  of  all  concerned  vented  itself 
in  disjointed  ejaculations  of  approval  that  warmed  the 
cavalryman's  heart. 

"  Wait  till  I  make  out  my  report  of  all  this,"  he  said 
on  one  occasion.  "  Be  sure  you  Piffers  will  get  all  the 
kudos  you  deserve." 

And  five  minutes  later,  he  fell — shot  through  the  body 
— into  Desmond's  arms. 

"Nothing  .  .  nothing  serious,"  he  protested,  while  his 
face  wried  with  pain.  "Don't  delay  matters  .  .  on  my 
account.  I  can  pull  along  somehow,  if  you'll  give  me  an 
arm." 

But  they  got  him  on  to  a  stretcher,  none  the  less  ;  and 
Courtenay  did  all  he  could  till  a  definite  halt  was  possible. 

"  Bad  .  .  is  it  ? "  the  civilian  asked  coolly,  noting  the 


THE   VALLEY   OP   DECISION.  319 

concern  in  the  other's  eyes.  "Well,  a  man  might  do 
worse  than  die  ...  like  a  soldier.  But  by  God,  I'll  hang 
on  to  life  somehow, — till  I  can  draft  out  my  report." 

And  hang  on  to  life  he  did,  in  defiance  of  mortal  pain, 
with  a  tenacity  worthy  of  his  bull-dog  jaw. 

At  the  foot  of  the  kotal,  Desmond  called  a  halt ;  and 
the  rearguard  under  Hira  Singh  closed  up,  to  hold  the 
enemy  in  check,  that  the  guns  and  wounded  might  get 
over  in  safety  before  the  position  should  be  finally 
abandoned. 

And  now  began  the  toughest  bit  of  fighting  the  day 
had  yet  seen.  For  the  Waziris  closed  with  the  Sikhs 
and  Punjabis  in  overwhelming  numbers ;  exchanging  the 
clatter  of  musketry  for  the  clash  of  steel,  the  sickening 
thud  of  blows  given  and  received.  But  neither  numbers 
nor  cold  steel  availed  to  break  up  that  narrow  wall  of 
devoted  men.  With  each  gap  in  their  ranks,  they  merely 
closed  in,  and  fought  the  more  fiercely :  Hira  Singh,  with 
his  brother  the  Jemadar,  and  a  score  of  unconsidered 
heroes,  flinging  away  their  lives  with  less  of  hesitation 
than  they  would  have  flung  away  a  handful  of  current 
coin,  to  gain  time  for  those  whose  safety  hung  upon  their 
power  of  resistance. 

At  last, — when  all  had  passed  over  the  small  hill 
behind  them, — came  the  order  to  fall  back :  and  not  till 
that  moment  had  any  man  among  them  yielded  a  foot  of 
space  to  the  persistent  foe,  who  now  pressed  after  them ; 
and,  with  renewed  jubilations  and  flutterings  of  green 
standards,  occupied  every  available  position  on  the  sur- 
rounding hills. 

For  two  interminable  hours  the  dreary  game  went  on ; 
till  six  ridges,  that  climbed  to  a  commanding  plateau, 
had  been  held  and  abandoned  through  shortage  of 
ammunition.  But  thanks  to  the  steadiness  of  the  rear- 
guard, and  to  their  leader's  genius  for  the  art  of  war, 
no  further  lives  were  lost ;  no  further  advantage  gained 
by  the  Waziris;  and  at  length,  heart -weary  and  leg- 
weary,  they  reached  the  plateau  itself,  to  find  Brownlow, 
— with  shot  and  shell,  and  two  hundred  Sikhs  thirsting 
for  battle, — already  there  before  them,  having  covered  the 
nine  miles  in  one  and  a  half  hours. 


320  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

Perhaps  only  a  soldier  who  has  drunk  his  cup  of  blood 
and  fire  to  the  dregs,  knows  the  strange  mingling  of 
emotions  packed  into  that  little  word  'relieved':  and 
assuredly  none  but  a  soldier  could  enter  into  the  joy  with 
which  Lenox  stood  swaying  dizzily  beside  his  beloved 
guns,  while  he  and  Brownlow  pitched  eight-and-twenty 
shells  into  the  fortified  village  below :  the  last  one,  to 
their  shameless  satisfaction,  lighting  on  the  mosque  itself, 
and  lifting  the  Mullah,  with  his  green  flag  of  victory, 
twenty  feet  into  the  air. 

It  was  a  more  or  less  damaged  and  dejected  party 
of  five  which  assembled  in  the  small  mess  tent  that 
night. 

So  much  had  been  lost,  so  little  gained  by  the  day's 
disaster :  an  epitome  of  too  many  '  regrettable  incidents ' 
beyond  the  Border.  The  costliest  item  of  Frontier  de- 
fence is  this  unavoidable  waste  of  the  lives  of  picked 
soldiers.  The  Sikhs  had  lost  heavily  in  Native  officers 
and  men.  Colonel  Montague  had  succumbed  to  his 
wounds  during  the  retirement.  Norton  and  Kichardson, 
both  too  severely  hurt  to  appear  at  mess,  were  officially 
in  hospital, — that  is  to  say,  on  stretchers  in  two  field 
service  tents :  and  three  out  of  the  five  men  at  the  mess 
table  had  brought  away  superfluous  mementoes  of  Waziri 
marksmanship. 

Lenox  himself  had  suffered  more  from  loss  of  blood 
than  from  the  flesh  wound  in  his  shoulder,  which  was  not 
a  serious  affair ;  and  to  Desmond's  broken  wrist  had  been 
added  a  disfiguring  slash  across  his  cheek.  No  doubt 
orders  and  commendation  awaited  them :  but  their  elation 
at  the  prospect  was  hushed  by  the  very  present  shadow 
of  death.  For  the  soldier,  inured  as  he  is,  does  not  count 
death  a  little  thing.  He  cannot,  any  more  than  the  rest 
of  us,  'go  out  of  the  warm  sunshine  easily.'  And  the 
thought  of  Montague's  wife  and  children,  of  Un win's  '  No 
more  dancing  attendance  on  Waziris,'  intruded  unsought, 
breaking  the  thread  of  common  speech. 

No  doubt,  also,  Desmond  and  Lenox  were  thinking, 
manlike,  of  their  own  wives ;  and  thanking  God  for 
wounds  that  would  only  let  loose  the  woman's  divine 


THE   VALLEY   OP   DECISION.  321 

reserves  of  tenderness,  her  passion  for  'mothering'  the 
man  she  loves.  Once  during  the  evening  they  exchanged 
a  glance  of  comprehension,  —  the  freemasonry  of  those 
who  love, — and  the  same  question  sprang  simultaneously 
to  their  minds.  "  How  about  poor  Norton  ?  Would  the 
news  bring  that  wife  of  his  back  to  Dera  Ishmael  in  the 
last  week  of  March  ? "  And  Desmond  decided  that  if  it 
did  not,  Norton  must  be  persuaded  to  put  up  with  them, 
and  submit  to  Honor's  ministrations,  in  whose  power  to 
soothe  and  bless  he  had  the  faith  of  a  little  child,  or  of  a 
great  man;  for  the  two  are  so  nearly  allied  as  to  be 
almost  identical. 

As  for  Norton  himself,  he  was  too  much  engrossed  in 
the  painful  task  of  '  hanging  on  to  life '  to  trouble  his 
head  about  any  other  matter.  The  news  of  his  serious 
hurt  spread  through  the  neighbouring  villages  as  news 
only  speeds  in  India,  without  help  of  post  or  wire :  and 
when,  on  the  following  morning,  a  deputation  of  friendly 
Khans  waited  upon  the  Burra  Sahib,  to  express  their 
sorrow  and  shame  at  so  flagrant  a  breach  of  the  great 
Border  law  of  hospitality,  and  to  offer  help  with  the 
bringing  in  of  dead  bodies,  Norton  insisted  on  receiving 
them,  propped  up  on  a  chair :  a  broken,  but  unconquered 
remnant  of  the  man  whom  they  had  feared,  and  loved,  and 
obeyed,  with  that  mixture  of  independence  and  loyal 
allegiance  which  is  perhaps  England's  greatest  triumph 
in  India. 

But  all  his  courage  could  not  conceal  the  truth  from 
their  eyes :  and  with  one  accord,  these  hardened  men — 
who  had  no  regard  for  death  in  the  abstract,  and  an  un- 
limited veneration  for  strength  in  any  form  —  bowed 
themselves  at  the  Englishman's  feet,  and  wept  like 
children. 

"Oh,  Sahib,  .  .  Father  of  the  District,  .  .  this  is  an 
evil  thing  that  hath  befallen,"  the  oldest  among  them 
wailed,  in  deep-toned  lamentation.  "  How  will  it  be  with 
us  who  have  so  long  been  ruled  by  your  wisdom,  when 
the  light  of  your  Honour's  countenance  is  withdrawn? 
And  whom  will  the  Sirkar l  send  us  in  thy  stead  ? " 

"In  less  than  a  month  the  SirJcar  will  send  fire  and 

1  .Government. 
X 


322  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

sword,"  Norton  answered  sternly.  "  Smoking  villages, 
and  blackened  crops.  A  gift  for  a  gift,  a  blow  for  a  blow, 
is  straight  dealing.  But  for  one  life  taken  yesterday  the 
Sirkar  will  exact  ten :  of  that  ye  may  rest  assured." 

"  Nay,  but  let  it  not  be  forgotten,  Hazur,  that  we,  who 
are  present,  be  men  of  one  word,  true  to  our  salt ;  not  as 
those  murderers,  upon  whom  the  wrath  of  Allah  will  be 
poured  out  like  water,  even  upon  the  man-child  at  the 
breast,  for  yesterday's  black  work." 

Which  comfortable  prediction  Norton  received  with 
rather  a  bitter  smile.  It  did  not  square  with  his  own 
experience  of  the  ironical  tangle  men  call  Life.  But  for 
all  that,  it  is  possible  that,  in  his  extremity,  he  envied 
these  savage  Sons  of  the  Prophet  their  faith  in  the  rough 
justice  of  Allah's  dispensations. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

"  The  man  was  my  whole  world,  all  the  same, 
With  his  flowers  and  praise,  and  his  weeds  to  blame  ; 
And  either,  or  both,  to  love." 

— BROWNING. 

THE  Father  of  the  District  never  saw  his  unruly  children 
again;  nor  did  Mrs  Dudley  Norton  ever  return  to  Dera 
Ishmael  Khan.  The  telegram  he  despatched  to  her  on 
arrival,  made  light  of  his  wound,  and  its  possible  result ; 
perhaps  because  pride  urged  him  to  take  the  initiative 
rather  than  submit  to  the  culminating  proof  of  her  total 
detachment  from  him;  perhaps  because  he  shrewdly 
guessed  that  she  could  not  reach  him  in  time. 

It  had  needed  all  the  reserves  of  strength  that  are  the 
reward  of  clean  and  temperate  living,  to  keep  him  alive 
throughout  the  return  marches.  Yet  the  feat  was  accom- 
plished, and  his  official  report — a  lucid,  vigorous  bit  of 
work — drawn  up  in  full ;  with  the  result  that,  in  leisurely 
course  of  time — a  mere  trifle  of  seven  months  or  so  after 
the  event — there  appeared  in  the  'Army  Gazette'  the 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  323 

names  of  Major  Desmond,  V.C.,  Captain  Lenox,  C.S.I., 
and  Lieutenant  Kichardson,  as  officers  on  whom  her 
Majesty  had  been  graciously  pleased  to  bestow  the 
Distinguished  Service  Order.  The  principal  Native 
officers,  whose  gallantry  had  been  so  notable  a  feature 
of  that  grim  day's  work,  received  the  coveted  Order  of 
Merit ;  Hira  Singh  and  his  brother  being  gazetted,  though 
killed,  that  their  widows  might  draw  a  larger  pension. 
For  England  is  rarely  unmindful  of  her  heroes ;  notwith- 
standing her  superb  dilatoriness  in  honouring  the  men 
who  risk  death  and  disablement  for  the  maintenance  of 
her  scattered  Empire. 

With  the  completion  of  the  report,  on  which  his  heart 
was  set,  the  will  to  live  deserted  Dudley  Norton.  To 
drop  in  harness  was,  as  he  had  said  to  Quita,  a  kinder 
fate  than  the  dismal  disintegration  of  a  loveless  old  age ; 
and  the  loosening  of  his  grip  on  life  brought  reaction 
sharp  and  sudden,  from  which  he  never  rallied  again. 

His  death,  following  close  upon  that  of  the  two  Sikh 
officers,  cast  a  temporary  gloom  over  the  station ;  and  on 
the  occasion  of  its  announcement,  the  two  chief  papers  of 
Upper  India  broke  out  into  journalistic  eulogies  on  the 
notable  qualities  of  the  man's  work  and  character ;  extol- 
ling his  strength  and  breadth  of  purpose  and  of  view ;  his 
daring  disregard  for  red-tape  and  all  the  paraphernalia  of 
mechanical  officialdom;  and  above  all,  his  remarkable 
hold  upon  the  Frontier  tribes ;  administering,  too  late — 
with  true  human  perversity — the  praise  that  had  been  so 
grudgingly  dealt  out  to  him  when  ambition  was  at  its 
height,  when  a  word  or  two  of  generous  recognition  would 
have  atoned  in  some  measure  for  the  failure  and  embitter- 
ment  of  his  private  life.  Finally,  they  commiserated 
with  the  man  on  whom  would  devolve  the  insuperable 
task  of  replacing  a  Dudley  Norton. 

He  arrived  in  due  course  : — a  stop-gap  from  an  obscure 
down-country  station;  a  man  of  hide-bound  convention- 
alism, who  brought  with  him  three  children  and  a  washed- 
out,  subdued-looking  wife,  and  who  spoke  magnanimously 
of  Norton  as  "a  clever  fellow,  of  course,  but  deplorably 
casual  officially."  With  such  haphazard  shifting  of  pawns 
on  the  chess-board  is  the  momentous  game  of  Empire 


324  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

played.  Yet  long  after  Dudley  Norton's  name  had  been 
almost  forgotten  by  the  overtasked,  fluctuating  world  of 
Anglo-India,  it  still  remained  a  household  word  among 
the  Mahsud  Waziris,  whose  brothers  in  blood  had  so 
treacherously  taken  his  life. 

And  while  Norton  lay  dying  at  the  Desmonds'  bun- 
galow, Kichardson  was  established  under  his  friend's  roof 
as  a  matter  of  course.  For  this  is  India  :  the  land  of  the 
Good  Samaritan,  as  those  who  have  lived  there  longest 
know  best.  It  has  been  well  said  that  "  an  Englishman's 
house  in  India  is  not  his  castle,  but  a  thousand  better 
things — a  casual  ward,  a  convalescent  home,  a  rest-house 
for  the  strayed  traveller ;  and  he  himself  is  the  steward 
of  it  merely."  That  this  is  no  exaggeration  but  simple 
fact,  Quita  had  already  seen ;  and  now,  when  she  herself 
was  called  upon  to  obey  the  unwritten  law  of  her  hus- 
band's country  and  service,  Lenox  noted,  with  a  throb  of 
pride,  that  for  all  her  artist's  tendency  to  shrink  from 
pain  and  suffering,  she  rose  to  the  situation  like  a  high- 
mettled  horse  to  a  fence. 

On  their  first  evening  together,  when  Dick,  under  the 
merciful  influence  of  morphia,  had  forgotten  pain  in  sleep, 
Lenox  spoke  to  her  of  the  thought  that  troubled  his  mind. 

He  was  lying  back  luxuriously  in  his  deep  chair — the 
wounded  shoulder  and  left  arm  scientifically  bandaged — 
while  Quita  hovered  about  him,  or  knelt  at  his  side ;  her 
every  tone  and  gesture,  and  the  misty  shining  of  her  eyes, 
enveloping  him  in  so  exquisite  an  atmosphere  of  tender- 
ness that,  like  Stevenson,  Lenox  felt  inclined  to  vote  for 
separations  (not  to  say  wounds)  when  they  were  both 
safely  over! 

"Come  here  a  minute,  darling,"  he  said  at  length, 
drawing  her  down  beside  him.  "  I  want  to  tell  you  about 
Dick.  There's  no  getting  at  the  rights  of  it,  of  course. 
He  won't  say  a  word  himself;  and  I  went  all  to  pieces  for 
the  moment.  I  only  know  that  when  the  firing  was 
hottest,  he  managed  to  cross  in  front  of  me;  that  the 
bullet  in  his  leg  ought  by  rights  to  have  gone  into  mine ; 
and  it's  quite  bad  enough  to  know  that." 

Quita's  eyes  swam  in  sudden  tears.     "  I  always  thought 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  325 

him  a  dear  fellow,"  she  said  softly.  "  Just  a  dear  fellow ; 
not  much  more.  But  now — one  begins  to  admire  your 
'Dick.'" 

Lenox  nodded.  "  You  never  quite  know  what  stuff  a 
fellow's  made  of  till  he  gets  his  chance." 

But  Quita,  crouching  lower,  had  bowed  her  forehead 
upon  his  hand. 

"  What  is  it,  lass  ? "  he  asked ;  and  when  she  looked  up, 
not  only  her  lashes,  but  her  cheeks  were  wet. 

"  Eldred,  am  I  hideously  wicked  ? "  she  faltered.  "  I  was 
— I  was  thanking  God  that  he  did  take  his  chance.  Think 
— if  it  had  been  you !  Am  I  wicked  ? " 

He  drew  her  close,  and  kissed  her.  "  Hardly  that, 
dearest.  Only  very  human." 

"  But  there's  no  danger,  is  there  ?  No  permanent 
damage  done  ? " 

"  No.  Mercifully  the  bullet  only  grazed  the  bone.  He 
may  have  a  week  of  fever,  and  a  slow  convalescence ;  but 
you'll  not  grudge  the  trouble  of  nursing  him,  after  what 
I've  told  you." 

"  I'd  never  have  done  that.  And  now," — she  rose  to 
her  feet,  her  eyes  kindling, — "  now  it  will  be  a  privilege. 
Oh,  I'll  be  ever  so  good  to  him,"  she  added  under  her 
breath. 

And  for  the  next  three  weeks — being,  as  she  had  said, 
a  creature  of  extremes — she  was  so  uniformly  and  en- 
chantingly  'good  to  him'  that  those  long  days  of  fever, 
pain,  and  enforced  idleness  were  among  the  most  delect- 
able Max  Eichardson  had  ever  known,  or  ever  wished  to 
know ;  that,  in  truth,  each  landmark  on  the  road  back 
to  health  and  duty  could  no  longer  be  regarded  with 
that  unmixed  satisfaction  common  to  the  masculine 
invalid. 

But  Richardson  was  too  little  capable  of  analysis  to  be 
troubled  by  this  wrong-headed  state  of  things,  or  to  detect 
the  hidden  seed  from  which  his  flower  of  contentment 
sprang.  Mrs  Lenox  was  astonishingly  kind  to  him,  and 
quite  the  most  charming  companion  a  sick  man  could 
desire:  that  was  all. 

His  sharp  bout  of  fever  once  over,  she  sang  to  him, 
read  to  him,  argued  with  him  on  a  quaint  variety  of  sub- 


326  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

jects,  enlarging  his  mental  horizon,  drawing  out  thoughts 
and  opinions  at  whose  existence  he  had  never  guessed  till 
now.  But  for  him  the  hidden  charm  of  their  intercourse 
lay  less  in  what  she  said  or  sang,  than  in  the  vibrations  of 
her  voice ;  in  the  quick  response  of  lips  and  eyes  to  her 
April  changes  of  mood ;  and  more  than  all  in  her  unfailing 
spirit  of  humour,  which  broke  up  the  monotone  of  days 
spent  in  a  long  chair  as  a  prism  breaks  white  light  into 
a  band  of  brilliant  colours.  For  Quita's  genius  was  not 
of  the  highly  specialised  order.  It  did  not  inhabit  an 
air-tight  compartment  of  her  brain  where  pictures  grew. 
It  pervaded  her  whole  personality.  It  was  not  merely  a 
genius  for  art,  but  for  living,  for  being  vital,  for  seeing 
and  feeling  and  doing  all  that  it  is  possible  to  see  and 
feel  and  do  in  the  sum  of  man's  threescore  years  and 
ten.  Small  wonder  then  if  Max  Eichardson  enjoyed 
his  convalescence,  and  was  in  no  hurry  to  complete  the 
process. 

As  for  Quita,  she  was  unconsciously  slipping  back  to 
her  favourite  pastime,  to  that  alluring  compound  of  friend- 
ship and  etherealised  flirtation  which  she  had  likened  to 
fencing  with  the  buttons  off  the  foils.  The  outcome  of 
her  last  fencing-bout  might  have  awakened  glimmerings 
of  caution  in  a  less  reckless  offender.  But  Kichardson 
was  not  to  be  named  in  the  same  day  with  James  Garth ; 
and  in  his  case  it  was  less  a  matter  of  fencing  than  of 
'  two  heads  bending  over  the  same  board  till  they  touch, 
and  the  thrill  passes  between  them ' ;  a  dangerous  varia- 
tion of  the  same  amusement.  The  two  heads  had  not 
touched  as  yet.  In  all  probability  they  never  would. 
But  prophecy  is  unsafe  where  the  human  heart  is  in 
question:  and  as  the  months  slipped  by,  and  Eldred's 
reabsorption  in  the  Battery  and  the  hated  articles  left 
them  constantly  alone  together,  Quita  grew  genuinely 
fond  of  this  big,  fair  man,  with  his  unruffled  sweetness 
of  temper,  and  lazily  smiling  eyes.  He  satisfied  the 
lighter  elements  in  her  nature  as  completely  as  her 
husband  satisfied  its  deeper  needs ;  and  in  truth,  so 
little  did  one  man's  sphere  of  influence  trench  upon  the 
other's,  that  she  had  almost  been  capable  of  loving  both 
at  once;  each  with  a  different  set  of  faculties:  —  an 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  327 

achievement  only  possible  to  that  bewildering  creation, 
the  artist  woman ! 

Not  that  Quita  had  yet  achieved  anything  so  remark- 
able. But  her  feeling  for  Eichardson,  founded  upon 
gratitude  and  built  up  by  sympathy,  was  a  real  thing; 
and  being  singularly  free  from  the  taint  of  baser  clay, 
she  frankly  acknowledged  the  fact,  not  only  to  herself 
but,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  to  her  husband,  thinking 
to  please  him  by  her  appreciation  of  his  friend. 

But  man  is  born  to  perversity  as  the  sparks  fly  upward ; 
which  is  more  than  half  the  reason  why  he  is  born  to 
trouble.  Also,  perversity  apart,  it  was  early  days  for  a 
husband,  endowed  with  the  normal  man's  desire  for  ex- 
clusive possession,  to  stand  the  strain  of  a  triangular 
household.  Therefore,  when  Quita,  extolling  Eichardson's 
patience  and  gratitude,  remarked  for  the  second  time  with 
unguarded  fervour,  "  One  really  grows  much  too  fond  of 
the  dear  fellow,"  Lenox  turned  upon  her  a  straight  glance 
of  scrutiny. 

"Great  luck  for  him.  Have  you  ever  told  him  so,  I 
wonder  ? " 

The  undernote  of  sarcasm  in  his  half-bantering  tone 
brought  the  blood  to  her  cheeks.  But  her  manner  froze 
in  proportion  to  her  inward  heat. 

"Am  I  given  to  making  promiscuous  declarations  of 
that  sort?" 

"  Not  that  I  am  aware  of.  But  you  have  rather  original 
ideas  on  the  platonic  question ;  and  one  can  never  quite 
tell  where  you  draw  the  line." 

"  I  draw  it  at  telling  a  man  I  am  fond  of  him,"  she 
answered,  with  a  slight  lift  of  her  head.     "  Even  a  man 
so  little  likely  to  misunderstand  one  as  your  Dick." 
"  Is  that  what  you  call  him  now  ? " 
"  I  won't  answer  such  a  question.    You  may  think  what 
you  please." 

Then,  in  defiance  of  dignity  and  pride,  her  lip  quivered, 
and  she  came  closer  to  him. 

"  Eldred,  what  makes  you  say  such  detestable  things  ? 
I  thought  you  wanted  me  to  be  good  to  him.  Are  you — 
angry  with  me  about  it  now  ? " 

The  touch  of  hesitancy,  so  rare  in  her,  disarmed  the 


328  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

man,  reawakened  his  better  self;  and  slipping  an  arm 
round  her,  he  crushed  her  against  him  with  a  force  that 
took  away  her  breath. 

"I'm  a  selfish  brute,  Quita.  That's  all  about  it,"  he 
said  bluntly.  "  And  Dick's  the  best  chap  in  the  world." 

She  hid  her  eyes  a  moment  against  his  coat.  Then 
straightened  herself,  and  stood  away  from  him.  "You 
exaggerate  the  selfishness,  1  assure  you,"  she  said,  smiling 
at  his  gravity  of  aspect.  "  And  even  if  you  didn't,  I 
could  forgive  that ;  but  not  that  you  should  so  misunder- 
stand my  whole  nature.  Honestly,  Eldred,  I  would 
almost  rather  you  struck  me." 

"  Struck  you  ?     Great  Scott ! " 

The  amazement  in  his  eyes  brought  a  sparkle  into  her 
own. 

"  Yes,  exactly.  That's  so  like  a  man  !  D'you  fancy  I 
don't  know  that  if  you  laid  your  littlest  finger  on  me 
roughly,  in  a  moment  of  heat,  you'd  never  forgive  your- 
self? Yet  you  struck  something  much  more  sensitive 
than  my  mere  body,  when  you  said  you  couldn't  tell 
where  I  drew  the  line.  I  may  not  have  been  reared  upon 
copy-book  maxims,  but  I  have  my  own  ideas  about  the 
fitness  of  things ;  even  if  they  don't  coincide  with  yours, 
at  least  I  think  I  may  be  trusted  not  to  disgrace  you." 

"  Do  you  really  need  to  tell  me  that,  Quita  ? " 

"  It  seems  so — after  what  you  said  just  now." 

He  frowned.  "You  can  wipe  out  what  I  said  just 
now,  lass.  It  was  spoken  in  annoyance." 

"Well,  please  don't  say  such  things  again,  even  in 
annoyance ;  or  there  will  never  be  any  peace  between  us. 
Besides,  my  dear,  they  are  quite,  quite  unworthy  of  you, 
and  no  one  knows  that  better  than  yourself." 

She  came  closer  now,  and  laying  both  hands  upon  him, 
lifted  her  face  to  his.  Then  she  left  the  study,  with  the 
seal  of  reconciliation  upon  her  lips,  and  revived  assurance 
in  her  heart.  ' 

But  Lenox,  drawing  out  pipe  and  tobacco-pouch,  as  he 
watched  her  go,  was  discomfortably  aware  that  his  first 
attempt  at  remonstrance  had  ended  in  strategic  surrender. 
Not  only  had  he  failed  to  dispel  the  nameless  cloud  that 
hung  upon  him,  but  he  had  managed  matters  so  ill  that 


THE   VALLEY    OF    DECISION.  329 

now  the  whole  subject  must  be  labelled  '  dangerous ' ;  not 
to  be  reopened  except  under  special  stress  of  circumstance. 

"She  needs  riding  on  the  snaffle,"  was  his  masculine 
reflection,  arising  from  the  natural  conviction  that  in  all 
matters  of  moment  the  mastery  must  rest  with  him ; 
which  was  not  Quita's  view  by  any  means;  and  her 
husband  was  just  beginning  to  recognise  the  fact.  He 
noted,  in  spite  of  her  genuine  devotion,  a  curious  detach- 
ment, mental  and  moral,  a  certain  airy  evasion  of  common, 
womanly  responsibility,  the  free  attitude  of  the  good 
comrade  rather  than  the  wife ;  inherent  tendencies, 
fostered  and  established  by  the  dead  years  that  took  their 
toll  at  every  turn. 

Each  week  of  living  with  her  deepened  his  conviction 
that  the  winning  of  the  entire  woman  would  be  a  matter 
of  time  and  trouble ;  of  acquiring  knowledge  in  which  he 
was  still  sadly  deficient.  And  how  infinitely  she  was 
worth  it  all !  He  reminded  himself  that  the  first  year  of 
marriage  was  proverbially  difficult ;  that  two  pronounced 
individualities  could  not  be  expected  to  fuse  without 
a  certain  degree  of  turmoil ;  and  having  lighted  his  pipe, 
he  flung  himself  into  a  chair,  and  closed  his  eyes. 

For  his  trouble  of  mind  had  a  physical  basis  of  which 
his  wife  knew  nothing.  His  wound,  though  only  keeping 
him  on  the  sick-list  a  week,  had  given  him  a  good  deal  of 
pain,  intermittent  fever,  and  broken  nights,  which  he  had 
made  light  of  that  Quita  might  feel  free  to  devote  her- 
self to  Kichardson,  whose  first  bout  of  fever  had  been 
severe.  But  when  pain  and  heated  blood  had  subsided, 
the  broken  nights  remained.  A  crushed  habit — let  it  be 
never  so  sternly  trodden  under — retains  its  vitality  for  an 
amazing  length  of  time.  Lenox  fought  the  threatened 
return  of  insomnia  with  every  legitimate  weapon ;  spent 
the  greater  part  of  each  night  in  his  study,  writing 
doggedly,  or  pacing  the  long  room  with  mechanical 
persistence, — to  no  purpose. 

Then,  with  a  stunned  incredulity,  he  realised  what  was 
happening.  Stealthily,  insistently,  the  old  craving  was 
reasserting  its  dominion  over  him.  He  had  been  prepared 
for  the  possibility  of  its  recrudescence  once  or  twice  in 
the  event  of  illness  or  mental  strain,  before  he  could  count 


330  THE   GEEAT    AMULET. 

it  conquered  for  good.  But  that  it  should  have  come  so 
soon,  and  upon  so  slight  a  provocation,  knocked  all  the 
heart  out  of  him ;  blackened  for  the  time  being  his  whole 
outlook  on  life.  In  ordinary  circumstances,  he  would 
have  found  it  an  unspeakable  relief  to  share  the  trouble 
with  his  wife;  to  give  her  the  chance  she  had  once  so 
desired  of  helping  him  to  fight  against  it.  But  now  they 
were  rarely  alone  together  for  long;  and  her  lightly 
detached  attitude  tended  to  establish  rather  than  dispel 
his  native  instinct  of  reserve.  Moreover,  she  was  so 
happily  absorbed  in  ministering  to  his  friend,  that  he 
shrank  from  shadowing  her  bright  nature  with  the  cloud 
that  darkened  his  own : — a  mistake  arising  from  his  rudi- 
mentary knowledge  of  women.  For  an  appeal  to  her 
deeper  sympathies  might  have  wakened  her  undeveloped 
mother  instinct ;  and  by  drawing  them  into  closer  union 
might  have  averted  much.  But  in  the  last  event,  it  is 
'  character  that  makes  circumstance ;  and  character  is 
inexorable.' 

Thus  Lenox,  lying  back  in  his  chair,  was  still  far  from 
recognising  his  fundamental  error.  He  was  simply 
pondering  Quita's  last  words  to  him,  and  endorsing  their 
truth  with  characteristic  honesty.  He  had  put  himself 
in  the  wrong  by  his  manner  of  broaching  the  subject ;  but 
the  belief  in  his  right  to  speak  of  it  remained.  He  was 
prepared  to  put  up  with  a  good  deal  for  Dick,  but  not  for 
others ;  and  it  was  beginning  to  dawn  upon  him  that 
Dick  was  in  all  likelihood  the  first  of  a  series  ;  that  only 
so  could  her  need  for  varied  companionship  be  satisfied. 
An  idea  that  suggested  disturbing  contingencies.  His 
mind  reverted  to  Garth,  to  Sir  Eoger  Bennet,  and  to  the 
nameless  unknowns  who  had  probably  bridged  the  space 
between.  Since  her  frank  confession  of  loyalty  at  Kajiar, 
he  had  refrained  from  expressing  curiosity  on  the  subject. 
But  a  man  cannot  always  keep  his  mind  from  straying 
into  forbidden  places.  "  If  only  she  would  not  treat  the 
whole  crew  as  if  they  were  her  brothers ;  and  favourite 
brothers  at  that ! "  had  been  his  thought  more  than  once 
during  the  past  few  months.  It  was  all  very  well  with 
Dick, — a  gentleman  through  and  through,  without  a  grain 
of  conceit  in  him ;  but  there  were  scores  of  others  who 


THE  VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  331 

would  not  understand.  Garth,  for  instance,  had  clearly 
not  understood ;  and  for  her  sake,  as  well  as  his  own, 
Lenox  did  not  choose  that  she  should  multiply  mistakes 
of  that  kind. 

With  a  sigh,  he  drew  out  his  watch,  remembering  that 
he  had  consented  to  be  one  of  the  judges  at  the  Punjab 
Infantry  sports,  in  which  some  of  his  own  men  and 
Native  officers  were  taking  part.  Perhaps  Quita  would 
drive  down  with  him  :  but  he  would  not  press  the  point. 

Her  infectious  laughter  seemed  to  challenge  and  rebuke 
his  black  mood,  as  he  opened  the  drawing-room  door  to 
find  her  taking  her  patient  for  a  walking  tour,  his  hand 
resting  on  her  shoulder ;  her  face  alight  with  encourage- 
ment, looking  up  into  his.  For  it  was  this  big  man,  with 
his  dependence,  and  his  simplicity  of  character,  who  had 
wakened  the  mother  spirit  in  Quita  after  all ;  though  she 
was  not  yet  alive  to  the  fact. 

They  stood  still  when  Lenox  appeared,  Eichardson  a 
little  breathless  from  some  recent  effort. 

"  He  tripped  over  your  bear's  head,  and  I  saved  him 
from  falling ! "  Quita  explained  triumphantly.  "  I  wanted 
him  to  try  without  the  crutch,  because  Dr  Courtenay 
takes  him  in  to  dinner  to-night ;  and  he  hardly  had  to 
lean  on  me  at  all ! " 

"  I  told  Mrs  Lenox  you'd  be  down  on  me  if  I  turned 
her  into  a  walking-stick,"  Richardson  added  in  half- 
laughing  apology.  "But  she  insisted.  And  you  know 
how  much  chance  a  fellow  has  when  she  insists!" 

"  Yes — I  know,"  Lenox  answered,  such  depth  of  con- 
viction in  his  tone  that  Quita  laughed  again. 

"  Mon  Dieu — listen  to  the  man  !  One  would  think  I 
spent  half  my  time  insisting  on  his  doing  what  he  hates ; 
which  is  a  rank  libel!  Now,  Mr  Richardson,  back  to 
your  chair,  please.  You've  done  enough  for  one  while." 

Lenox  put  out  a  hand  to  steady  him  across  the  room. 

"He's  going  to  beat  me  at  picquet  now,  by  way  of 
gratitude,"  Quita  remarked,  shaking  out  his  pillows  and 
settling  him  in.  "  Are  you  off  anywhere,  mon  cher  ? " 

"  Yes :  to  the  P.  I.  sports.     I'm  one  of  the  judges." 

"  Then  it  would  be  quite  useless  to  go  with  you.  But 
I'll  ride  down,  if  you  like." 


332  THE   GEE  AT   AMULET. 

Lenox  hesitated.  He  had  seen  the  shadow  of  dis- 
appointment in  his  subaltern's  eyes. 

"  N  .  .  no,"  he  said  at  length.  "  Better  stop  and  play 
with  Dick.  When  I  come  back  I'll  get  you  up  into  the 
trap,  old  man,  and  take  you  for  a  drive  before  dinner. 
Who's  coming,  Quita?  Just  the  Desmonds  and  Court- 
enay  ? " 

"  Yes ;  and  the  Ollivers." 

"  I'm  glad.     She's  good  company." 

"Which  is  more  than  I  can  say  of  him,"  Quita  re- 
marked, as  the  door  closed  behind  her  husband.  "  And 
he  takes  me  in.  Poor  me !  But  you'll  be  on  the  other 
side ;  and  you  must  be  very  kind  to  me  to  make  up." 

He  smiled  gravely  upon  her,  without  replying.  She 
had  established  herself  on  a  low  stool  fronting  him; 
elbows  on  knees,  hands  framing  her  face,  her  fearless  eyes 
searching  his  own. 

"  What  are  you  smiling  at  ? "  she  asked. 

"  The  notion  of  a  great  buffer  like  me  being  '  kind '  to 
you.  It's  you  and  Lenox  who  are  a  long  sight  too  kind  to 
me.  You're  spoiling  me  between  you.  Why  didn't  you 
go  to  the  sports  with  him  just  now  ? " 

"  Because  I  didn't  choose ! "  she  answered  sweetly. 
"  And  as  for  spoiling, — what  else  did  we  have  you  here 
for  ?  The  only  thing  I  ask  in  return  is  that  you  will  give 
up  this  nonsense  about  not  letting  me  paint  your  portrait. 
Will  you,  please  ? " 

He  was  silent  a  moment,  tugging  at  his  fair  moustache, 
his  eyes  avoiding  hers.  Then : 

"  It  wouldn't  be  worth  all  the  work  you'd  put  into  it," 
he  objected  with  an  uneasy  laugh. 

"I'm  the  best  judge  of  that.  Inspiration's  been  dead 
in  me  for  months ;  and  now  that  you  have  set  the  spark 
ablaze,  it's  hardly  fair  or  gracious  to  fling  cold  water  on 
the  poor  thing.  But  of  course  if  the  sittings  would  bore 
you,  now  you  can  move  about  a  bit " 

"  Bore  me  ?  Mrs  Lenox  ! "  He  looked  straight  at  her 
now,  emphatic  denial  in  his  gaze;  and  she  nodded  con- 
tentedly, knowing  that  her  point  was  gained. 

"  That's  a  mercy,"  she  said.  "  Put  on  your  service  kit 
to-morrow  morning,  and  we'll  start  in  earnest.  I'm  long- 


THE    VALLEY    OF   DECISION.  333 

ing  to  begin.     But  in  the  meantime  you  are  generously 
permitted  to  beat  me  at  picquet ! " 

The  dinner  that  evening  was,  as  Quita  explained,  "  Just 
a  family  affair,"  to  celebrate  Richardson's  good  progress, 
and  drink  success  to  the  punitive  expedition,  which  on 
that  very  day  was  filing  through  the  Gomal  Pass  into 
Mahsud  territory,  to  take  toll,  not  only  in  men's  lives,  but 
'  in  steer  and  gear  and  stack '  for  that  day  of  treachery 
and  black  disaster,  whose  hidden  motive  still  remained  a 
mystery  even  to  those  most  intimate  with  the  tribes  of 
the  district. 

Honor,  who  had  not  seen  Lenox  for  nearly  a  week,  was 
struck  by  a  change  in  him,  whose  significance  she  under- 
stood too  well.  The  lurking  shadow  in  his  eyes,  the 
bitterness  in  his  tone,  —  recalling  '  bad  days '  last  hot 
weather, — so  troubled  her  that  she  found  surface  talk  and 
laughter  an  effort,  and  felt  grateful  to  Frank,  who  could 
always  be  counted  upon  for  more  than  her  share  of  both. 

She  rallied  him  on  his  gravity,  in  happy  ignorance  of 
the  cause. 

"Sure  ye're  just  in  low  water,  Captain  Lenox,"  she 
declared  with  her  big  laugh,  "  because  your  dapper  little 
screw  guns  have  been  left  out  of  the  show.  You  want  to 
be  hitting  the  scoundrels  back  with  your  own  shells,  eh  ? " 

To  which  Lenox  replied  in  an  undertone  of  savage  con- 
viction that  puzzled  Honor. 

"You  never  made  a  straighter  shot,  Mrs  Olliver.  I'd 
give  five  years  of  my  life  to  be  taking  the  Battery  through 
the  Gomal  to-day." 

But  if  Lenox  had  little  to  say  for  himself,  Quita  was 
not  in  the  same  dilemma.  In  fact,  it  seemed  to  Desmond 
that  she  talked  a  little  too  daringly,  a  little  too  much ; 
and  for  the  first  time  he  found  his  appreciation  tinged 
with  criticism. 

He  had  gathered  from  Lenox  that  she  knew  little  or 
nothing  of  his  hidden  trouble ;  but  it  struck  him  that  a 
wife  of  the  right  sort  (Honor,  for  instance)  would  have 
guessed  the  truth  by  now.  He  knew  how  little  Lenox 
appreciated  the  constant  influx  of  men  to  tea  and  dinner ; 
and  one  or  two  people — of  the  social  vulture  species — had 


334  THE    GREAT    AMULET. 

already  spoken  to  him  of  her  friendship  with  Eichardson 
in  the  tone  of  voice  which  made  Desmond  clench  and 
pocket  his  fists,  lest  he  should  knock  them  down  out  of 
hand.  He  took  advantage  of  his  seat  next  the  Gunner  to 
mention,  under  cover  of  general  conversation,  his  anxiety 
about  Lenox's  health ;  and  managed  also  to  take  part  in 
most  of  his  talk  with  Quita  throughout  the  meal. 

She  redoubled  her  friendliness  to  Eichardson  by  way  of 
flinging  down  her  gage ;  whereupon  Desmond  with  admir- 
able insouciance  retired  from  the  lists.  Once  or  twice  her 
eyes  challenged  his,  half-puzzled,  half-defiant,  Her  quick 
perception  detected  his  critical  attitude,  and  in  her  present 
mood  the  undernote  of  antagonism  acted  as  a  spur  rather 
than  a  check  upon  the  dare-devil  strain  in  her,  which  was 
responsible  for  her  odd  mingling  of  folly  and  heroic  self- 
devotion. 

Before  the  ladies  left  the  table,  the  success  and  thorough- 
ness of  the  expedition  was  proposed  with  cheers ;  followed 
by  a  second  toast,  drunk  in  silence,  to  the  memory  of  the 
three  men  who  had  been  alive  in  their  midst  less  than  a 
month  ago  :  and  later  in  the  evening — when  the  Ollivers, 
Eichardson,  and  Courtenay  were  absorbed  in  whist,  and 
Honor  had  gone  out  with  Lenox  into  the  garden,  where  a 
late  moon  was  rising — Desmond  lured  Quita  to  the  piano 
at  the  far  end  of  the  room  by  asking  her  to  sing. 

At  the  close  of  the  second  song,  he  leaned  his  elbow 
on  the  top  of  the  instrument,  and  stood  so,  searching  her 
face  with  such  discomposing  directness  that  a  burning 
wave  of  colour  submerged  her,  and  she  dropped  her  eyes. 

"I  don't  believe  you  ever  criticised  me  till  to-night, 
Major  Desmond,"  she  murmured,  striking  soft  chords  at 
random  with  her  left  hand. 

"  Not  since  I  really  came  to  know  you,"  he  answered 
in  the  same  tone.  "  You  have  never  given  me  cause." 

"Well— I  don't  like  it." 

" Few  of  us  do.    You  prefer  indiscriminate  admiration?" 

The  flush  deepened,  but  she  looked  up. 

"  I  prefer  your  approval  to  your  disapproval,"  she  said, 
still  moving  her  hand  over  the  notes.  "  But  I  have  always 
gone  my  own  way;  and  I  warn  you  that  nothing  rouses  the 
devil  in  me  like  being  scolded  or  dictated  to." 


THE    VALLEY    OP    DECISION.  335 

"  My  dear  Quita,  I  have  no  right  nor  wish  to  do  either. 
I  only  want  to  ask  you  a  question  or  two — if  I  may  ? " 

"What  about?" 

"  Your  husband.  He  won't  consult  Courtenay ;  and  I 
am  getting  anxious.  Would  you  mind  telling  me  about 
how  much  sleep  he  has  had  this  last  week  ? " 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"As  far  as  I  know  he  hardly  ever  comes  to  bed  at  all." 

"  Quita,  you  are  exaggerating ! " 

"I  only  mean,  it's  no  use  asking  me  for  accurate 
information." 

"But  do  you  know  that  insomnia's  a  serious  thing — 
especially  for  him  ? " 

"  Yes.  I  made  a  fuss  when  he  first  began  working  late. 
It's  bad  for  him  and  a  nuisance  for  me.  But  I  have  given 
that  up  now.  He's  as  obstinate  as  I  am  about  going  his 
own  way.  It's  almost  the  only  quality  we  share  in 
common." 

"  Don't  you  feel  it  might  be  worth  trying  again  ? " 

"  Possibly.     If  you  think  I  ought." 

Desmond's  eyes  twinkled  at  the  implied  compliment. 

"  I  do  think  it." 

She  sighed. 

"  Oh,  well, — I  don't  promise,  and  we've  had  enough  of 
the  dismal  subject  for  now.  One  never  seems  allowed  to 
enjoy  one's  self  in  peace.  D'you  want  more  music,  or — 
would  you  prefer  whist  ? " 

"I'm  to  cut  in,  and  leave  Eichardson  free.  Is  that 
it?" 

The  blush  that  still  burned  in  her  cheeks  spread  slowly 
over  her  neck  to  the  soft  lace  at  her  breast ;  and  the  man 
felt  that  in  his  momentary  vexation  he  had  struck  too 
hard.  Then  her  eyes  flashed  fire  into  his. 

"  Major  Desmond,  if  you  begin  saying  things  like  that 
to  me — I  shall  hate  you." 

"  No,  Quita.  It'll  never  be  that  between  us.  I  apolo- 
gise. But  you  know  I  care  immensely  for  your  husband ; 
and  it  angers  me  to  see  you — apparently  indifferent  .  .  ." 

"  Indifferent  ?  How  dare  you  .  .  .  ? "  she  breathed  low 
and  passionately,  her  breath  coming  in  small  gasps. 

"  I  understand.    But  I'm  not  sorry  I  roused  you. — Here 


336  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

comes  Honor.  I  know  she  wants  to  get  home  early. 
Good-night  to  you.  Am  I  forgiven  ? " 

"  No.  But  you  will  be — to-morrow  morning.  I  believe 
one  could  forgive  you  almost  anything." 

"  I'll  not  be  base  enough  to  take  advantage  of  such  a 
generous  admission,"  he  answered,  smiling  and  grasping 
her  hand. 

Lenox,  with  a  keen  glance  at  his  wife's  face,  followed 
the  Desmonds  into  the  verandah,  and  helped  Honor  into 
her  seat. 

"  You'll  keep  your  promise,  won't  you  ? "  she  pleaded. 
"  And  go  straight  to  bed  without  even  looking  into  your 
study.  Never  mind  if  the  lamp  burns  there  all  night. 
You  can  charge  me  for  the  kerosene ! " 

"  That's  a  bargain  then,"  he  answered,  laughing.  "  It's 
like  old  times  to  have  you  laying  commands  on  me 
again ! " 

"  Not  only  to-night,  remember :  a  whole  week  of  nights 
and  more." 

"  Trust  me.  I  have  promised.  Good  -  night,  Mrs 
Desmond,  and  thank  you." 

As  the  dog-cart  turned  into  the  open  road,  Honor 
spoke :  "  Theo,  if  she  lets  him  go  to  pieces  again  ...  I 
shall  never,  never  forgive  her." 

There  was  a  break  in  her  low  voice,  and  Desmond 
slipping  a  hand  through  her  arm,  pressed  it  close  against 
him. 

"You  dear  blessed  woman,  no  fear  of  that.  She  cares, 
— with  all  her  heart.  But  there  are  faults  and  difficulties 
on  both  sides;  and  I'm  afraid  they  have  still  a  lot  of 
rough  ground  to  get  over  before  they  settle  into  their 
stride." 

And  Quita,  the  perverse,  Quita,  the  inconsistent,  cried 
herself  to  sleep  that  night  upon  her  husband's  shoulder. 


THE    VALLEY    OF    DECISION.  33*7 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

"  Hearts  are  like  horses  ;  they  come  and  go  without  whip  or  spur." 

— Native  Proverb. 

"  ONLY  ten  minutes  more ;  a  bare  ten  minutes.  Then  you 
shall  'ease  off'  and  stretch  your  legs  a  little.  I'm  sure 
by  this  time  you  must  be  wishing  all  artists  at  the  bottom 
of  the  sea ! " 

"  N-no ;  I  haven't  got  quite  as  far  as  that  yet,"  Richard- 
son answered  with  lazy  good-humour,  flicking  the  ash  off 
his  cigar. 

"  You  will,  though,  before  I've  done  with  you !  I  know 
I  have  been  exacting  to-day,  for  the  eyes  are  the  crux  of 
a  portrait.  Unless  the  individual  soul  looks  out  of  them, 
it's  a  dead  thing.  D'you  know,  I  once  told  Eldred  that 
yours  were  like  bits  of  sea  water  with  sunbeams  caught 
in  them ;  and  the  effect  isn't  easy  to  produce  on  canvas. 
But  I'm  succeeding — I'm  succeeding  h  merveille.  That's 
why  I  must  get  the  effect  while  my  hand  is  in;  and 
you've  not  once  hampered  me  by  looking  bored  or  im- 
patient. How  is  one  to  reward  you  for  such  angelic 
behaviour  ? " 

"  There  are  ways  and  ways.    Am  I  allowed  to  choose  ? " 

"  Perhaps, — within  limits  !  But  we'll  discuss  that  when 
I  can  give  my  mind  to  the  subject.  Now,  your  head  a 
little  more  to  the  right,  please.  That's  better.  You  get 
out  of  position  when  you  talk." 

"  Sorry.     I  may  lean  back  though,  mayn't  I  ? " 

"  Why,  of  course !  I  only  wonder  you  don't  get  up  and 
throw  the  chair  at  my  head  ! " 

He  laughed  and  leaned  back  accordingly,  blowing  an 
endless  chain  of  smoke-rings,  and  watching  her  face,  her 
supple  sleuderness,  the  deft  movements  of  her  hand,  with 
a  contentment  whose  vital  ingredients  he  either  could  not 
or  would  not  recognise — yet. 

For  a  full  week  he  had  spent  many  hours  of  each  day 
in  smoking  and  watching  her  thus ;  and  the  fact  that  he 
had  never  yet  found  the  occupation  monotonous  was  a 
danger-signal  in  itself.  But  your  comfort-loving  man  is 

Y 


338  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

singularly  obtuse  in  the  matter  of  danger-signals :  and 
loyalty  apart,  Eichardson  was  too  genuinely  devoted  to 
his  friend  to  admit  the  possibility  of  that  which  was 
almost  an  accomplished  fact.  The  man  was  not  built  for 
high  tragedy ;  and,  in  truth,  the  sittings  were  an  equal 
pleasure  to  him  when  Lenox  joined  them,  as  he  often  did ; 
the  two  men  smoking  and  talking  horses  or  their  beloved 
'  shop,'  while  Quita  worked  and  listened,  and  interrupted 
without  scruple  whenever  the  spirit  moved  her. 

Yet  beneath  the  smooth-seeming  surface  of  things 
Lenox  was  more  than  ever  aware  of  her  curious  detach- 
ment, of  a  disturbing  sense  that  his  hold  over  her  was 
still  an  imperfect  thing.  Nor  was  he  altogether  mistaken. 
Quita  had  not  yet  learned  to  give  herself  royally.  The 
fact  that  she  had  put  her  heart  and  life  into  the  hands 
of  the  man  she  loved  did  not  prevent  her  from  going 
her  own  way;  from  feeling — as  she  had  always  felt — 
responsible  to  herself  alone  for  her  words  and  actions. 

And  the  past  week  had  seemed  to  emphasise  these 
idiosyncrasies ;  because,  at  the  first  mysterious  breath  of 
inspiration,  the  submerged  artist  in  her  had  risen  again 
with  power,  had,  for  the  time  being,  dominated  her, — 
body  and  soul :  and  she  may  surely  be  forgiven  if  the 
'  world-lifting  joy '  of  creation  swept  her  off  her  feet ;  if 
she  had  eyes  and  thoughts  for  little  else  save  the  picture 
coming  to  life  under  her  hand.  Perhaps  it  needs  an 
artist,  one  who  has  felt  the  Divine  breath  stir  a  spark  into 
a  flame,  rightly  to  understand  and  make  allowance  for 
such  spiritual  intoxication.  Michael, — shallow-hearted 
egoist  though  he  might  be, — would  have  understood :  be- 
cause he  was  an  artist.  But  Lenox,  being  simply  a  man 
and  a  soldier,  found  it  difficult;  to  distinguish  between  her 
absorption  in  the  picture  and  in  the  subject  of  the 
picture ;  difficult  to  realise  her  momentary  freedom  from 
the  personal  equation. 

What  with  incessant  sittings,  and  equally  incessant 
people  to  tea  and  dinner,  he  had  little  intimate  speech  of 
her  in  the  daytime  ;  and  in  the  long  hours  of  wakefulness 
as  he  lay  beside  her  listening  to  her  even  breathing,  he 
faced  the  fact  that  his  growing  irritability  was  due  to 
jealousy; — not  the  jealousy  that  doubts  or  suspects, — of 


THE   VALLEY   OP   DECISION.  339 

that  he  was  incapable ;  but  the  primitive  man's  demand 
for  exclusive  possession  of  his  own.  Probably  Desmond, 
in  such  a  case,  would  have  lost  his  temper  and  cleared 
the  air  in  half  an  hour.  But  temperament  is  destiny  : 
and  Lenox  was  not  so  made.  He  merely  shut  the  door 
upon  the  evil  thing ;  and  tried — not  very  successfully — 
to  ignore  its  existence.  And  with  three  evil  spirits  in 
possession  of  him,  it  is  not  surprising  if  at  times  he  gave 
place  to  the  devil. 

Of  all  this  Quita  was  airily  unaware.  Since  he  had 
given  up  coming  to  bed  at  unearthly  hours,  she  concluded 
that  he  slept.  Mixed  motives  had  held  him  silent  in 
regard  to  the  threatening  shadow  of  opium,  even  during 
her  moment  of  collapse  and  self-reproach  after  the  expedi- 
tion dinner ;  and  of  his  dawning  jealousy  he  was  at  once 
too  ashamed  and  too  proud  to  speak. 

This  morning  his  repressed  irritability  had  been  more 
marked  than  usual ;  and  Quita  had  decided  that  once  free 
from  her  enthralling  picture,  she  must  devote  herself 
definitely  to  '  cheering  him  up.'  But  for  the  present  she 
discouraged  troublesome  thoughts  ;  and  now,  while  Kich- 
ardson  sat  smoking  and  watching  her,  she  was  conscious 
of  nothing  on  earth  save  the  exhilaration  of  success. 

She  let  fall  both  hands  at  last,  with  a  sigh  of  supreme 
satisfaction. 

"  There !  I  can  do  no  more  to  it — for  the  present.  You 
are  released.  You  may  come  and  look." 

He  obeyed ;  and  stood  beside  her  lost  in  uncompre- 
hending admiration  of  her  skill. 

It  was  Quita  who  spoke  first.  "  We  have  achieved  a 
rather  remarkable  bit  of  work  between  us,  you  and  I." 

"  We  ? "  he  echoed  in  amaze.  "  I  don't  quite  see  where 
I  come  in." 

"  No  :  you  wouldn't :  and  I'm  afraid  I  can't  enlighten 
you.  But  the  fact  remains.  Would  you  mind  if  I  sent 
it  to  the  Academy,  just  as  a  Portrait  of  a  Soldier  ? " 

"  The  Academy  ?    Good  Lord  !     I  should  be  proud." 

"  Thank  you.  I  believe  they'll  hang  it ;  and  hang  it 
well.  That  will  be  my  reward.  But  what  about  yours  ? " 

She  looked  up  at  him  now,  letting  her  eyes  rest  con- 
fidently in  his :  and  the  glad  light  in  them  held  him, 


340  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

dazzled  him,  so  that  he  forgot  to  answer  her ;  forgot  much 
that  he  ought  to  have  remembered,  in  the  flashlight  of  a 
revelation  so  simple  yet  so  astounding  that  it  took  him 
several  seconds  to  understand  what  had  befallen  him. 

"  Well  ? "  she  asked,  smiling.  "  Is  it  so  tremendous  ? " 
And  the  spell  was  broken.  But  reality  remained. 

He  felt  something  in  him  throb  strangely ;  the  pain  of 
it  melting  into  a  glow  more  startling  than  the  first  shock: 
and  with  an  awkward  laugh  he  turned  abruptly  away 
from  her ; — too  abruptly,  as  a  twinge  in  his  left  leg  gave 
warning,  so  that  the  laugh  ended  in  an  involuntary  sound 
of  pain. 

"  Mr  Eichardson,  do  be  careful,"  she  reproved  him 
gently.  "What  has  come  to  you?  And  why  do  you 
go  off  like  that  without  answering  my  question  ? " 

For  he  had  crossed  to  the  mantelpiece ;  and  a  photo  of 
her  portrait  of  Lenox  seemed  to  be  absorbing  his  attention. 
Nor  did  he  take  his  eyes  from  it  in  speaking. 

"  Because  —  well,  because  it  struck  me  that  perhaps 
you  wouldn't  be  so  keen  about  rewarding  me, — if  you 
knew  .  .  .  ." 

"What?     Is  there  anything  to  know?" 

"Yes:  worse  luck.  I  ought  to  have  spoken  sooner. 
But  I  shirked  it,  especially  after  what  you  said  out 
driving.  You  remember — that  letter — long  ago  ? " 

"Am  I  likely  to  forget?     What  about  it?" 

This  time  he  faced  her  deliberately,  though  the  blood 
mounted  to  his  forehead. 

"  I  am  the  chap  who  wrote  it.  I'm  the  man  you  have 
been  hating  all  these  years  ;  the  man  you  hate  still." 

She  came  a  step  closer  and  stood  gazing  at  him  blankly, 
reorganising  her  sensations. 

"You  wrote  it?     You?" 

"Yes;  I." 

"  But  did  you  really  know  anything  about  me,  or  about 
Sir  Eoger  Bennet  ? " 

"  Nothing  on  earth.  I  was  simply  repeating  idle 
gossip." 

"  Oh,  how  could  you  !     And  look  what  came  of  it.     The 

years  of  bitterness  and  estrangement ! "    He  winced 

under  her  passionate  reproach. 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  341 

"  It  was  done  in  ignorance,  remember ;  though,  as  you 
reminded  me  not  long  since,  that  doesn't  soften  facts. 
Slang  me;  hate  me  for  it,  if  you  must.  It  can't  be 
helped." 

"  But  I  don't  hate  you,  mon  ami;  I  couldn't  if  I  tried 
for  a  month." 

This  was  disconcerting.  He  had  thought  to  snap  the 
cord  of  their  friendship,  and  so  make  it  easier  to  see  less 
of  her  in  future. 

"  Not  even  now  you  know  ? "  he  persisted  desperately. 
And  she  shook  her  head. 

"  Yet  you  told  me  distinctly  that  you  could  never  for- 
give that  unlucky  chap." 

"  But  then  I  never  guessed  it  was  you"  she  retorted 
with  true  woman's  logic.  "  How  could  one  hate  you,  after 
what  happened  last  month.  Eldred  told  me." 

"  That," — he  shrugged  his  shoulders, — "  that  was  a  mere 
nothing." 

"  Excuse  me,  as  men  go  now  it  was  a  good  deal.  But 
still — I  am  puzzled.  If  you  shirked  telling  me  all  this 
while,  what  made  you  tell  me  to-day  ? " 

This  also  was  disconcerting.     But  he  did  his  best. 

"  I  don't  know.  Perhaps  it  was  talking  of  rewards. 
Besides — I'm  one  of  those  clumsy  fools  who  never  feel 
quite  comfortable  until  he  has  blurted  out  the  truth." 

He  tried  to  laugh,  but  her  direct  look  broke  the  sound 
in  his  throat. 

"  I  rather  admire  that  kind  of  fool,"  she  said,  with  quiet 
emphasis.  "  And  you  have  lost  nothing  by  your  folly, — 
nothing." 

"  Does  that  mean  you  have  quite  forgiven  me  ? "  For 
the  life  of  him  he  could  not  stiffle  the  exultation  in  his 
tone. 

"  Quite — quite.  Will  that  do  for  your  reward  ?  Shake 
hands  on  it, — please :  and  I  promise  never  to  speak  or 
think  of  it  again." 

Before  their  hands  fell  apart  Lenox  entered,  and  a  slight 
shadow  crossed  his  face. 

"  A  note  for  you,  Dick,"  he  said  quietly.  "  The  man 
wants  an  answer." 

Richardson's  relief  was  evident. 


342  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"  Thanks.  I  won't  keep  him  waiting."  And  he  de- 
parted without  opening  the  envelope. 

"  Don't  be  too  long ;  and  don't  change  your  coat,"  Quita 
called  after  him.  "  There's  some  detail  work  that  I  might 
get  in  before  tea."  Then  conscious  of  gathering  storm, 
she  turned  hurriedly  to  her  husband. 

"What  were  you  and  Dick  shaking  hands  about  at 
this  time  of  day  ? "  he  asked  as  the  door  closed  upon  his 
subaltern. 

She  had  meant  to  tell  him  as  a  matter  of  course.  But 
something  in  his  tone  roused  her  fatal  spirit  of  perversity 
— and  up  went  her  chin  into  the  air. 

"  We  were  striking  a  bargain.  Have  you  any  objec- 
tion?" 

"  No.  Not  the  smallest.  Would  it  be  any  use  if  I 
had?" 

She  paused,  weighing  the  question. 

"  I  don't  think  it  would.  Petty  tyranny  of  that  kind 
is  the  last  thing  I  could  put  up  with ;  the  last  thing  one 
would  expect  from  you." 

"  Quite  so.  At  the  same  time — marriage  means  com- 
promise. You  understand  ? " 

"  When  a  man  says  that  he  usually  implies  that  the 
woman  will  do  most  of  the  compromising,  in  order  that 
he  may  have  his  own  way." 

"  Within  limits,  a  man  has  a  certain  right  to  his  own 
way  in  his  own  house." 

"And  generally  gets  it!"  she  answered  lightly. 

Lenox  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  going  over  to  the 
easel,  contemplated  in  silence  the  living  likeness  of  his 
friend :  while  Quita,  watching  him,  was  increasingly  aware 
of  slumbering  electricity  that  might  at  any  moment  break 
into  a  lightning-flash  of  speech. 

"  It's  good.  Don't  you  think  so?"  she  asked  on  a  tenta- 
tive note  of  conciliation. 

"  Of  course  it  is.     Damned  good,"  he  answered  gruffly. 

"  Eldred !  Even  if  you  are  in  a  bad  mood,  you  might 
control  your  language." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  It's  exceedingly  good.  But 
you've  had  it  long  enough  on  hand.  Shall  you  finish 
it  to-day?" 


THE    VALLEY    OF    DECISION.  343 

"  I  don't  think  so.     Why  ? " 

"  Because,  though  Dick  isn't  quite  up  to  duty  yet,  he's  fit 
to  be  back  at  mess  again  and  in  his  own  bungalow." 

"  Has  he  said  anything  about  it  ? " 

"No." 

"  And  do  you  propose  to  tell  him  outright  that  he  has 
been  here  long  enough  ?  " 

"  What  I  propose  to  say  to  him  is  my  own  affair.  You 
needn't  distress  yourself  on  his  account.  Dick  and  I 
understand  one  another  perfectly." 

"  No  doubt  you  do.  But  after  all,  I  am  his  hostess,  and 
though  you  may  not  object  to  being  flagrantly  inhospitable, 
/  do — very  strongly.  Besides,  why  should  you  be  in  such 
a  hurry  to  turn  him  out  ?  Are  you  annoyed  again 
because  we  happen  to  be  good  friends  and  enjoy  one 
another's  society?  I  thought  you  were  above  that  sort 
of  thing." 

The  suggestion  of  scorn  in  her  tone  pricked  him  past 
endurance.  He  turned  upon  her  sharply;  and  his  eyes 
took  on  their  blue  of  steel. 

"  I  am  not  above  the  natural  passions  of  the  natural 
man.  You  may  as  well  know  it  first  as  last.  And  I  do 
not  choose  that  Dick  and  half  the  men  of  the  station 
shall  practically  live  in  my  house  because  I  happen  to 
possess  a  very  attractive  wife." 

"  In  fact,  you  imply  that  the  attractive  wife  is  bound 
over  not  to  go  beyond  correct  platitudes  with  any  of  them 
but  you.  Is  that  it  ? "  she  demanded,  the  red  of  rebellion 
staining  her  cheeks. 

The  man  was  sore  rather  than  angry;  and  the  least 
touch  of  tenderness  or  hesitancy  would  have  melted  him 
to  generous  contrition.  But  her  manner  hardened  him, 
and  he  set  his  teeth. 

"I  imply  nothing  of  the  sort;  and  you  know  it.  It 
would  never  occur  to  me  to  set  limits,  general  or  particu- 
lar, on  your  conduct  with  other  men ;  and  as  for  your 
intimacy  with  Dick,  if  I  didn't  believe  in  you  both 
absolutely  I  wouldn't  live  with  you  another  week.  But 
I  want  to  make  it  clear  to  you  that,  having  accepted  the 
fact  of  marriage,  you  cannot  in  reason  be  as  independent 
and  daringly  unconventional  in  your  dealings  with  men 


344  THE  GREAT   AMULET. 

as  you  were  when  you  had  no  one  to  consider  but  your- 
self. I  know  India  better  than  you  do.  We  live  in  glass 
houses  out  here :  and  I  know  the  sort  of  remarks  that  are 
made  about  a  young  married  woman  who  is  never  seen 
without  half  a  dozen  men  at  her  heels  .  .  ." 

"  But,  my  dear  man,"  she  broke  out  impatiently,  "  who 
cares  one  grain  of  dust  what  their  remarks  may  be  ?  Men 
are  my  natural -born  companions.  Always  have  been. 
Always  will  be.  And  it's  no  use  asking  me  to  cramp 
and  distort  my  whole  nature  because  bourgeois  people 
take  a  low  view  of  the  matter." 

"  No  use,  is  it  ?  That's  pretty  strong,  Quita.  Not  that 
I  am  asking  anything  of  the  kind :  only  that  you  should 
show  some  small  consideration  for  my  point  of  view ;  that 
you  should  make  some  effort  to  adapt  yourself  to  a  new 
relation." 

"  I  do  make  an  effort,  Eldred,"  she  answered  unappeased. 
"  But  individuality  and  temperament  are  stubborn  things, 
even  in  a  woman ;  and  I  can't  sacrifice  mine  because  I 
happen  to  be  your  wife.  Marriage  doesn't  change  one 
into  an  invertebrate  creature  of  wax  and  pack-thread  to 
be  moulded  or  pushed  into  any  shape  a  man  pleases; 
especially  if  one  happens  to  be  an  artist  as  well  as  a 
woman.  We  have  our  own  devils  inside  us ;  our  own 
minds  and  bodies  as  well  as  you.  It  wouldn't  be  the 
least  use  my  promising  to  walk  discreetly  and  weigh  my 
words  and  actions ;  because  I  shouldn't  keep  the  promise 
for  five  minutes.  Besides  .  .  ."  Eeturning  steps  sounded 
without,  and  Lenox  held  up  his  hand. 

"That's  enough,"  he  said  decisively.  "Here's  Dick. 
You're  simply  telling  me,  in  roundabout  language,  that 
you  intend  to  take  the  bit  between  your  teeth.  Well,  I 
intend  to  keep  a  firm  hold  on  the  reins  for  your  sake  as 
much  as  my  own." 

She  flushed  hotly. 

"  Mon  Dieu,  what  a  detestable  simile  ! " 

"  Quite  so.  But  it  expresses  the  position.  If  you  will 
make  it  a  case  of  mastery,  what  else  can  a  man  do  ? " 

And  as  Richardson  entered  from  the  dining-room, 
Lenox  went  out  by  way  of  the  verandah  into  his  study. 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  345 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

"  When  the  fight  begins  within  himself, 
The  man's  worth  something." 

— BBOWNINQ. 

LENOX,  back  at  his  writing-table,  automatically  took  up 
his  pen.  But  five  minutes  later  he  still  sat  thus,  looking 
straight  ahead  of  him  into  a  future  darkened  by  the 
encroaching  shadow  of  opium,  and  complicated  by  this 
new  factor  of  open  discord,  which — apart  from  the  pain 
of  finding  division,  where  he  had  looked  for  unity — set  all 
his  nerves  on  edge. 

Hitherto,  his  distaste  for  friction,  coupled  with  an 
almost  unlimited  power  of  endurance,  had  inclined  him  to 
let  matters  slide.  But  now  his  conscience — the  accusing, 
spiritual  thing  that  was  himself — warned  him  that  if 
marriage  meant  compromise,  it  also  meant  responsibility ; 
that  having  been  goaded  into  decisive  speech,  he  stood 
pledged  to  decisive  action,  for  her  sake,  even  more  than 
for  his  own.  Yet,  at  the  moment,  he  felt  physically  and 
mentally  unfit  to  grapple  with  the  complex  situation, 
hampered  as  he  was  by  the  experience  of  all  that  may 
spring  from  one  false  move,  one  instant  of  unguarded 
speech  ;  and  the  knowledge  that  his  insight,  his  judgment, 
were  clouded  by  the  insomnia,  grinding  headache,  and 
renewed  wrestling  with  a  power  stronger  than  his  will. 
For  there  was  no  evading  the  truth,  that,  in  the  past 
weeks,  the  drug  had  gained  fresh  hold  upon  him;  had 
resuscitated  the  old  paralysing  pessimism  and  dread  of 
defeat,  so  that  he  asked  himself  bitterly  what  right  had 
he  to  sit  in  judgment  upon  any  one,  least  of  all  upon  the 
dear  woman  who  was  the  core  and  mainspring  of  his  life  ? 

Yet,  fit  or  unfit,  the  need  for  action,  for  the  rightful 
assertion  of  authority,  remained.  He  laid  down  his  pen, 
planted  an  elbow  on  the  table,  and  covered  his  eyes ; 
struggling  for  clear  unprejudiced  thought ;  tormented  by 
the  consciousness  of  a  certain  small  box  hidden  away  in 
a  locked  drawer  within  easy  reach  of  his  hand. 

Suddenly  he  sat  upright.     The  lines  of  his  face  hard- 


346  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

ened ;  a  cold  moisture  broke  out  upon  his  forehead ;  and 
the  desperate  look  in  his  eyes  was  an  ill  thing  to  see. 
Yet  his  movements  had  a  strange  mechanical  deliberation, 
as  he  opened  the  drawer,  found  the  box,  helped  himself 
from  its  contents,  and,  locking  it  up  again,  leaned  back 
with  the  long  exhausted  sigh  of  a  man  released  from 
tension. 

For  several  minutes  he  sat  thus,  arms  folded,  eyes 
closed ;  yielding  himself  to  the  luxury  of  relief  that  stole 
over  him,  while  the  great  magician  plucked  the  pain  from 
throbbing  nerves,  unravelled  the  tangle  of  thought  and 
feeling,  soothed  brain  and  body  like  the  touch  of  a 
woman's  hand. 

But  relief,  as  always,  brought  revulsion ;  this  time 
sooner  than  usual;  because  for  many  days  he  had  held 
his  own  against  the  evil  thing,  and  had  almost  begun  to 
believe  himself  on  the  upward  grade. 

"  Damnation  ! "  he  broke  out  fiercely,  and,  the  key  being 
still  in  his  hand,  flung  it  haphazard  right  across  the  room. 
It  fell  between  a  heavy  bookcase  and  the  wall ;  and  with 
a  savage  laugh  of  satisfaction,  he  took  up  his  pen,  and 
began  to  write  rapidly,  without  pausing  to  select  words 
or  phrases.  He  tore  it  all  up  next  morning,  but  for  the 
time  being  it  served  to  distract  his  thoughts. 

Presently  he  heard  Quita's  voice  at  the  door. 

"  Eldred,  aren't  you  coming  to  tea  ? " 

"  No,"  he  answered,  without  looking  round. 

"  Shall  I  bring  you  some,  then  ? " 

"  No,  thank  you." 

He  turned  his  head  just  in  time  to  catch  sight  of  her 
as  she  closed  the  door ;  then  went  on  writing  with  less 
regard  than  ever  for  the  matter  in  hand. 

In  less  than  half  an  hour,  Richardson's  uneven  footstep, 
betraying  the  slight  limp,  sounded  without.  He  paused 
so  long  on  the  other  side  of  the  door,  that  Lenox's  brows 
went  up  in  surprise. 

"  That  you,  Dick  ? "  he  called  out.     "  Come  along  in." 

Richardson  obeyed ;  and  Lenox  removed  three  or  four 
books  from  an  adjacent  chair. 

"Sit  down,  old  chap.  You've  not  been  in  here  often 
enough  lately.  Chained  to  my  wife's  easel,  eh  ? " 


THE   VALLEY   OF    DECISION.  347 

"  Partly  .  .  .  yes,"  the  other  answered,  absently  finger- 
ing some  loose  sheets  of  manuscript  and  ignoring  the 
proffered  chair. 

"  Wasn't  sure,  either,  if  you  cared  about  being  inter- 
rupted. I  came  in  now  to  say  I  thought  of  dining  at 
mess  to-night,  and  clearing  out  into  my  own  bungalow 
to-morrow.  You've  been  uncommonly  good  to  me,  you 
and  Mrs  Lenox.  But  I  think  I've  been  quartered  on  you 
long  enough ;  and  I  shall  probably  get  back  to  duty  next 
week." 

He  spoke  rather  rapidly,  as  if  to  ward  off  interruption 
or  dissent;  and  Lenox  started  at  finding  the  initiative 
thus  taken  out  of  his  hands.  It  was  not  Quita's  doing. 
He  felt  sure  of  that.  But  Dick's  manner  puzzled  him; 
and  mere  friendliness  made  acquiescence  impossible. 

"Well,  you  seem  in  a  deuce  of  a  hurry  to  be  quit  of 
us,"  he  said,  with  a  short  laugh.  "  Might  as  well  stop 
till  you  do  get  back  to  duty ;  and  you  might  as  well  sit 
down  and  have  a  smoke,  now  you're  here,  instead  of 
standing  there  like  a  confounded  subordinate,  making 
havoc  of  my  papers ! " 

At  that  Eichardson  sat  down  rather  abruptly,  and 
helped  himself  from  his  friend's  cigar-case.  He  had 
small  talent  and  less  taste  for  subterfuge ;  and,  his  pulses 
being  in  an  awkward  state  of  commotion,  he  took  his  time 
over  the  beheading  and  lighting  of  his  cigar.  In  fact  he 
took  so  long  that  Lenox  spoke  again. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  my  wife  will  say  to  your  bolt- 
ing in  this  way,  at  a  moment's  notice  ?  Have  you  spoken 
to  her  yet  ? " 

"No.  I  was  afraid  of  seeming  .  .  .  ungracious;  and 
one  could  speak  straighter  to  you." 

"  Does  that  mean  you  really  won't  stop  on  ? " 

"I  think  not,  thanks.  It's  awfully  good  of  you  to 
suggest  it.  I  can  look  in,  of  course,  if  Mrs  Lenox  wants 
any  more  sittings.  But  I  may  as  well  stick  to  my  ar- 
rangement and  go  before  she  gets  sick  of  having  me  on 
her  hands." 

"You're  a  long  way  ahead  of  that,  I  fancy,"  Lenox 
remarked,  with  an  odd  change  of  tone. 

For  a  statement  of  that  kind  Kichardson  had  no  answer. 


348  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

He  could  only  acknowledge  it  with  a  rueful  smile  that 
did  not  lift  the  shadow  from  his  eyes.  There  were  no 
sunbeams  caught  in  Quita's  '  bits  of  sea  water '  just  then ; 
and  for  a  while  silence  and  tobacco-smoke  reigned  in  the 
room.  Eichardson,  who  appeared  to  be  reading  the 
closely  written  sheet  of  foolscap  at  his  elbow,  was 
casting  about  in  his  mind  for  the  best  means  of  saying 
that  which  must  be  said ;  while  Lenox,  watching  him 
keenly,  arrived  at  the  masculine  conclusion  that  Dick 
had  'come  a  cropper'  over  something,  and  possibly 
needed  his  help. 

"  Anything  on  your  mind,  old  chap  ? "  he  asked  bluntly, 
when  the  silence  had  lasted  nearly  five  minutes.  And 
Eichardson,  taking  his  resolution  in  both  hands,  looked 
up  from  the  meaningless  page. 

"  Yes,  that's  about  it.  Don't  misunderstand  me,  Lenox. 
I'd  sooner  work  with  you  than  with  any  man  in  creation  ; 
but — there  are  difficulties  ...  I  can't  put  it  plainer — 
and  I'm  thinking  of  applying  for  a  Staff  appointment. 
My  uncle  in  the  Secretariat  would  give  me  a  helping 
hand,  if  you'd  forward  the  thing  with  a  decent  recom- 
mendation. But  if  you  think  me  too  much  of  a  duffer 
for  Staff  work,  I  must  try — for  an  exchange " 

He  could  get  no  further ;  and  Lenox,  leaning  across  the 
corner  of  the  table,  scrutinised  his  face  with  eyes  that 
penetrated  like  a  searchlight. 

"  Well  .  .  .  I'm  damned ! "  he  said  slowly.  "  Am  I  to 
understand  that  after  all  we've  pulled  through  together, 
you  want  to  get  away  from  the  Battery  at  any  price  ? " 

"  It's  not  a  question  of  what  I  want  to  do ;  it's  what 
I've  got  to  do,"  the  other  answered,  averting  his  eyes. 

"  My  good  Dick,  you're  talking  in  riddles.  Have  you 
taken  temporary  leave  of  your  senses  ?  Or  is  it  a  case  of 
'  urgent  private  affairs '  ? " 

Lenox's  tone  had  an  edge  to  it.  Of  course  the  man 
was  free  to  go  where  he  chose.  But  it  had  grown  to  be 
an  understood  thing  between  them  that  they  would  work 
together  as  long  as  might  be,  and  he  could  not  conceal  his 
disappointment.  Eichardson  knew  this,  and  looked  up 
quickly.  It  was  the  worst  quarter  of  an  hour  he  had 
ever  known.  Facing  Waziri  bullets  was  a  small  matter 


THE    VALLEY    OF    DECISION.  349 

compared  with  this  despicable  business  of  disappointing 
and  deceiving  his  friend. 

"  It's  urgent  enough,  God  knows ! "  he  answered  des- 
perately. "  I  can't  say  more  than  that,  Lenox.  I  swear 
I  can't." 

He  looked  straight  at  Lenox  in  speaking.  And  this 
time  the  older  man's  gaze  held  him,  in  spite  of  him- 
self, till  the  blood  burned  under  his  fair  skin ;  till  he 
perceived,  between  shame  and  relief,  that  his  secret  was 
his  no  longer;  that  Lenox  had  seen,  and  understood. 
His  first  instinct  was — to  escape.  Such  knowledge  shared 
was  enough  to  strike  any  man  dumb. 

"  You  will  recommend  me,  won't  you,  old  chap  ? "  he 
asked  all  in  a  breath,  with  a  forward  movement,  as  if  to 
rise  and  depart. 

But  Lenox  reached  across  the  table,  and  a  heavy  hand 
on  his  shoulder  pressed  him  back  into  his  seat. 

"  No  need  to  hurry  away,  Max.  We've  settled  nothing 
yet." 

The  assurance  of  unshaken  friendship  in  his  altered 
manner,  and  in  the  sudden  use  of  Richardson's  first  name, 
automatically  readjusted  the  situation,  without  need  of 
so  much  as  a  glance  of  mutual  understanding,  which 
neither  could  have  endured. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  can't  recommend  you  for  Staff  work," 
Lenox  went  on  quietly,  as  though  dealing  with  a  mere 
official  detail,  submitted  for  his  approval.  "  Not  because 
you  are  a  duffer,  but  because  I  can't  spare  my  right-hand 
man.  I'm  not  an  easy  chap  to  work  with,  as  you  know. 
But  we've  learnt  one  another's  ways  by  now,  and,  unless 
political  work  claims  me,  we  can't  do  better  than  run  the 
Battery  together  till  you  get  a  command — and  that's  not 
far  off  now.  As  for  your  urgent  need  of  a  change,  if  six 
months  at  home  would  suit  you,  I'll  do  my  best  to  square 
it.  We  might  manage  sick-leave,  on  the  strength  of  your 
leg,  eh?" 

Richardson  breathed  deeply. 

"Thank  you,  Lenox.  It's  splendid  of  you.  I'd  be 
awfully  glad  of  the  change." 

"That's  all  right.  And  I  tell  you  what,  Dick,"  he 
paused,  and  smiled  upon  his  friend.  "  Hope  I'm  not 


350  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

taking  an  infernal  liberty  !  But  if  you  can  afford  it — and 
if  you  can  hit  on  the  right  girl — you  might  do  worse  than 
bring  a  wife  back  with  you.  You're  the  sort  that's  bound 
to  marry  some  time,  and  you  may  take  my  word  for  it, 
thirty's  a  better  age  to  start  than  thirty- five." 

Richardson  laughed,  and  coloured  again,  hotly. 

"  It  takes  two  to  make  that  sort  of  start,"  he  said. 
"  And  if  a  fellow  hits  on  the  wrong  one,  it  must  be  the 
very  devil." 

"  Yes,  by  Jove,  it  must ! "  Lenox  answered  feelingly  ; 
adding  in  his  own  mind  that  even  with  the  right  one,  it 
could  be  the  very  devil,  now  and  again.  "  Think  of  poor 
Norton.  But  you'll  have  better  luck,  I  hope.  About 
stopping  on  for  the  present,  of  course  you  must  please 
yourself.  You'd  be  very  welcome  ;  and  if  you're  afraid  of 
taking  up  too  much  of  my  wife's  time,  you  can  easily  give 
me  more  of  your  company  than  you  have  done  so  far. 
See  how  you  feel  about  it  to-morrow." 

"  Thanks,  I  will." 

He  rose  now  unhindered  ;  and  stood  a  moment  hesitat- 
ing, fired  with  a  very  human  wish  to  express  his  grati- 
tude. But  Lenox  had  accepted  and  dismissed  the  whole 
incident  in  a  fashion  at  once  so  impersonal,  so  chivalrous, 
that  his  aching  sense  of  disloyalty  and  unworthiness 
seemed  to  have  been  tacitly  wiped  out,  leaving  one  only 
course  open  to  him — to  act  as  though  that  culminating 
hour  of  madness  had  never  been. 

"  See  you  again  before  I  start  for  mess,"  he  said,  as 
Lenox  looked  up.  And  the  dreaded  interview — that 
should  have  broken  up  everything,  yet  had  altered  noth- 
ing, save  his  own  estimate  of  life — was  over. 

Lenox,  left  alone  again,  bowed  his  head  upon  his  hands, 
and  sat  a  long  time  motionless,  while  the  white  flame  of 
anger  leaped  and  burned  in  his  brain ;  anger  such  as  he 
had  never  yet  felt  towards  his  wife.  The  spirit  of  his 
formidable  uncle  still  so  far  survived  in  him  that  instinct- 
ively he  blamed  the  woman  ;  blamed  himself  also  because 
pride  and  a  strong  distaste  for  self-assertion  had  inclined 
him  to  an  attitude  of  masterly  inactivity.  In  this  fine 
fashion,  between  them,  they  had  rewarded  Dick  for  an 
unrecognised  act  of  gallantry  that  might  well  have  cost 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  351 

him  his  life ;  and  nothing  now  remained  but  to  make  such 
inadequate  atonement  as  the  case  admitted.  Strange  as 
it  may  seem,  he  had  never  come  so  near  to  loving  his 
friend  as  at  that  moment. 

As  for  Quita — was  there  even  the  remotest  chance  that 
she  also  .  .  .  ?  His  brain  refused  to  complete  such  a 
question.  The  thing  was  unthinkable.  But  in  any  case 
his  own  duty  stood  out  crystal  clear.  When  he  had 
mastered  his  anger  sufficiently  to  risk  speech,  he  and  she 
must  come  to  terms  upon  this  thorny  subject  once  for  all. 
And  he  must  take  his  stand  upon  the  bare  rock  of  prin- 
ciple. Let  her  brand  him  bourgeois,  Covenanter,  what  she 
would.  Dick's  secret  must  be  kept — at  any  cost ! 


CHAPTEE  XXXII. 

"  Love's  strength  standeth  in  Love's  sacrifice, 
And  he  who  suffers  most  has  most  to  give." 

— HAMILTON  KINO. 

DINNER  that  evening  was  an  oppressively  silent  affair. 
The  man's  white  Northern  anger  still  smouldered  beneath 
his  surface  immobility ;  while  Quita,  who  could  not  bring 
herself  to  believe  in  the  spontaneity  of  Eichardson's 
engagement  at  mess,  was  instinctively  measuring  and 
crossing  swords  with  the  husband,  whose  personality  held 
her  captive  even  while  it  forced  her  every  moment  nearer 
to  the  danger-point  of  open  defiance. 

Both  were  thankful  when  the  solemn  farce  of  eating 
and  drinking  came  to  an  end ;  and  Quita  rose  with  an 
audible  sigh  of  relief. 

"  Are  you  coming  into  the  drawing-room  at  all  ? "  she 
asked,  addressing  the  question  to  his  centre  shirt-stud. 

"  Yes — at  once.     I  have  a  good  deal  to  say  to  you." 

She  raised  her  eyebrows  with  a  small  polite  smile,  and 
swept  on  before  him,  her  step  quickened  by  the  fact  that 
his  words  had  set  the  blood  rushing  through  her  veins. 


352  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

The  dead  weight  of  his  silence  pulverised  her.     Speech, 
however  dangerous,  would  be  pure  relief. 

Before  following,  he  locked  up  spirit  tantalus  and  cigar- 
box  with  his  wonted  deliberation ;  and  on  reaching  the 
drawing-room  found  her  absorbed  in  contemplation  of 
Dick's  portrait,  hands  clasped  behind  her,  the  unbroken 
lines  of  her  grey-green  dress  lending  height  and  dignity 
to  her  natural  grace ;  the  glitter  of  defiance  gone  out  of 
her  eyes. 

Lenox  set  his  lips,  and  confounded  the  advantages 
nature  and  art  conspire  to  bestow  upon  some  women,  more 
especially  when  they  know  themselves  beloved.  The 
mere  man  in  him  had  one  impulse  only, — to  take  instant 
possession  of  her ;  to  conquer  her  lurking  antagonism  by 
sheer  force  of  passion  and  of  will.  But  he  had  sense 
enough  to  know  that  such  primitive  methods  would  not 
shift,  by  one  hair's-breadth,  their  real  point  of  division ; 
would,  in  fact,  be  no  less  than  inverted  defeat.  The  heart 
of  her  was  secure  : — that  he  knew.  It  was  her  detached, 
elusive  mind  and  spirit  that  were  still  to  win;  and  a 
man's  arms  had  small  concern  with  that  form  of 
capture. 

Quita  vouchsafed  him  a  glance  as  he  entered.  Then 
her  gaze  returned  to  the  picture. 

"  One  misses  him,"  she  said,  presumably  to  the  tall 
figure  on  the  hearth-rug.  "  I  think  I  have  never  known 
a  man  so  uniformly  cheerful  and  sweet-tempered.  But 
it  is  selfish  to  grudge  him  a  little  change  of  atmosphere. 
And  no  doubt  he  is  having  a  livelier  evening  than  we 
are." 

She  was  facing  her  husband  now;  but  something  in 
his  aspect  made  her  feel  suddenly  ashamed  of  using  small 
weapons  against  a  nature  too  magnanimous  to  retaliate. 
And,  without  giving  him  time  to  answer,  she  went  on,  a 
little  hurriedly,  "  Eldred,  if  this  intolerable  state  of  things 
means  that  you  really  imagine  I  am — how  does  one  put 
anything  so  detestable  ? — growing  .  .  .  too  fond  of  Mr 
Richardson,  you  can  set  your  mind  at  rest.  Morality 
apart,  you  are  much  too  masterful,  too  large — in  every 
way — to  leave  room  for  any  one  else  in  a  woman's  heart, 
once  she  has  let  you  in." 


THE   VALLEY   OP   DECISION.  353 

"Thank  you,"  Lenox  answered,  in  a  non-committal 
tone.  But  a  shadow  passed  from  his  face,  and  she 
saw  it. 

"  Of  course  I  know  it  has  been  rather  marked  this  last 
week.  But  that  was  simply  because  for  the  moment  he 
and  my  picture  were  the  same  thing.  Being  absorbed  in 
one  meant  being  absorbed  in  the  other.  To  produce  a 
living  portrait,  one  needs  to  get  inside  the  subject  of  it  as 
far  as  possible.  At  least,  I  do.  And  on  the  whole,  I 
think  my  method  is  justified  by  the  result ! " 

But  Lenox,  as  he  stood  listening,  experienced  fresh 
proof  of  man's  innate  spirit  of  perversity.  For  many 
days  past  he  had  been  angered  by  the  suspicion  that  in 
this  affair  of  portrait  painting,  the  subject  counted  for  too 
much ; — and  now,  when  he  ought  to  have  been  relieved, 
he  found  his  anger  rekindled  to  white  heat  by  Quita's 
frank  confession  that  his  friend — whose  heart  had  been 
wrenched  from  him  by  her  so-called  '  method ' — counted 
for  nothing  at  all.  For  one  ignoble  instant,  he  was 
tempted  to  break  through  every  restraining  consider- 
ation and  lash  her  with  the  truth. 

The  fact  that  he  did  not  answer  her  at  once  puzzled 
Quita. 

"Do  you  understand  now,  mon  ami  ?  "  she  asked,  coming 
a  step  closer.  "I  was  absorbed  in  an  interesting  subject. 
It  is  over — wild,  tout" 

"No,  Quita;  I  do  not  understand,"  he  answered,  re- 
pressed heat  hardening  his  voice  and  face  more  than  he 
knew.  "  To  a  mere  soldier  it  all  sounds  rather  inhuman ; 
and  I  can  only  say  that  if  you  find  it  so  necessary  to  '  get 
inside'  your  subjects,  as  you  express  it,  you  had  better 
make  women  and  children  your  speciality,  and  let  us 
poor  devils  alone." 

"Women  and  children?  But,  my  dear — what  a  sug- 
gestion !  One  does  not  choose  one's  subjects  to  order. 
Women  and  children  don't  interest  me.  I  have  always 
preferred  to  paint  men,  and  always  shall." 

"  Then  I'm  afraid  it  may  end  in  your  having  to  drop 
portrait  painting  altogether." 

That  touched  the  artist  to  the  quick.  With  a  small 
gasp — as  if  he  had  struck  her — she  sank  upon  the  arm  of 

z 


354  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

his  big  chair;  her  hands  clasped,  so  that  the  knuckles 
stood  out  sharp  and  white ;  two  spots  of  fire  burning  in 
her  cheeks. 

"  Do  you  seriously  mean — what  you  say  ? "  she  asked, 
pausing  between  the  words. 

"  Certainly.     I  am  not  given  to  speaking  at  random." 

"  You  mean — you  would  insist  ? " 

"  I  hope  it  would  never  come  to  that." 

"  Mon  Lieu,  no.  It  never  would  ! "  She  flung  up  her 
head  with  a  broken  sound  between  a  laugh  and  a  sob. 
"  Because — if  it  ever  did " 

She  hung  on  the  word  a  moment ;  and  in  a  flash  Lenox 
saw  how  near  they  were  to  repeating  the  initial  tragedy 
of  more  than  six  years  ago. 

"  Quita,"  he  broke  in  sharply,  "  listen  to  me  before  you 
say  unconsidered  things  that  we  may  both  of  us  regret. 
Are  we  going  to  make  havoc  of  everything  again  at  the 
outset  ?  Tell  me  that." 

"  How  do  I  know  ?  It  depends  on  you.  I  think  I  told 
you  then,  that  you  might  as  well  expect  me  to  give  up 
seeing  or  hearing  as  to  give  up  my  art.  And  that  is 
truer — ten  times  truer — to-day,  even  though  I  am  .  .  . 
your  wife." 

He  saw  her  vibrating  like  a  smitten  harp-string ;  saw 
the  quick  rise  and  fall  of  the  lace  at  her  breast ;  and  it 
was  all  a  man  could  do  to  keep  his  hands  off  her.  He 
had  to  remind  himself  that  she  was  no  child  to  be 
comforted  with  empty  kisses ;  but  very  woman  and  very 
artist,  torn  between  the  master-forces  of  life. 

"  See  here,  lass,"  he  said  quietly,  laying  aside  his  half- 
smoked  cigar.  "  As  this  is  a  big  matter  for  us  both,  we 
may  as  well  get  at  the  root  of  it  straight  away.  You 
said  this  afternoon  that  you  could  not  give  up  your 
individuality  because  you  had  accepted  marriage.  Very 
well.  Neither  can  I.  That  still  leaves  us  two  alter- 
natives. Either  we  must  give  up  the  notion  of  living 
together ;  or  we  must  be  prepared  to  make  concessions — 
both  of  us.  Tha,t  is  why  I  said  that  marriage  means  com- 
promise. If  we  go  on  much  longer  as  we  have  been 
doing  lately,  seeing  next  to  nothing  of  one  another 
because  the  house  has  been  converted  into  a  surplus  club 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  355 

for  half  the  fellows  in  the  station ;  and  if  you  are  going 
to  spend  your  time  'getting  inside'  other  men  with  a 
view  to  painting  their  portraits,  we  shall  simply  drift 
apart  as  the  Nortons  did.  Conditions  of  life  out  here 
make  that  sort  of  thing  fatally  easy  to  fall  into.  But  I 
tell  you  plainly  that  if  there  is  to  be  no  attempt  at 
amalgamation,  if  we  are  each  to  go  our  own  way,  then — 
we  must  lead  separate  lives.  I  would  not  even  have  you 
in  India.  It  would  be  a  case  of  going  home." 

The  two  spots  of  fire  had  died  out  of  her  face,  and  she 
turned  wide,  startled  eyes  upon  him. 

"  I  don't — quite  understand."  Her  voice  was  barely 
audible.  "Are  you  telling  me — to  go?" 

"  My  dear — can  you  ask  that  ?  I  am  only  pointing  out 
the  conditions  that  might  make  such  a  catastrophe — in- 
evitable. Looking  things  in  the  face  may  prevent  future 
friction  and  misunderstanding,  which  are  the  very  devil. 
What's  more,  I  never  realised  till  lately  what  a  very  big 
factor  your  art  is  in  your  life.  I  believe  it  is  the  biggest 
thing  of  all.  Am  I  right  ? " 

"  I  don't  know.     I  can't  tell— yet." 

He  straightened  himself,  and  his  face  hardened. 

"  You  can  easily  find  out  by  putting  the  matter  to  prac- 
tical proof.  In  fact,  I  am  going  to  make  a  proposal  that 
will  not  leave  you  very  long  in  doubt.  You  have  genius, 
Quita.  I  recognise  that.  And  I  want  you  to  think  seri- 
ously over  all  you  said  this  afternoon  about  not  cramping 
or  distorting  your  individuality  to  suit  my  'prejudices.' 
If  you  feel  that  your  art  must  come  before  everything, 
that  marriage  will  only  hamper  its  full  development, 
without  making  good  what  you  lose, — in  fact,  if  you  think 
that  the  purely  artist  life  will  be  better  and  happier  for 
you  in  the  long-run,  I  would  sooner  you  said  so  frankly. 
I  would  indeed." 

"  Eldred ! "  she  gasped,  between  indignation  and  fear. 
But  he  motioned  her  to  silence. 

"  Hear  me  out  first.  I  told  you  I  had  a  good  deal  to 
say ;  and  as  I  am  not  often  taken  that  way,  you  must 
bear  with  me,  for  once.  You  know  now  something,  at 
least,  of  what  it  means  for  a  man  and  woman  to  live 
together,  as  we  do.  I  warned  you  that  I  should  prove  a 


356  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

sorry  bargain;  and  —  take  me  or  leave  me  —  I  cannot 
pretend  that  any  amount  of  compromise  will  make  me 
other  than  I  am.  You  think  me  hard,  narrow,  conven- 
tional, in  some  respects,  no  doubt.  But  in  a  matter  so 
vital  conventional  moralities  go  for  nothing.  I  want  the 
truth.  If  you  believe,  as  I  said,  that  art  must  stand  first 
with  you — always,  I  shall  respect  your  frankness  and 
courage  in  telling  me  so;  and  I  will  give  you — such 
freedom  as  the  circumstances  admit." 

"  Mon  Dieu!"  she  breathed,  and  for  a  second  or  two 
could  say  no  more.  She  had  touched  the  bed-rock  of 
granite  in  the  man  at  last.  Then  the  fear  that  clutched 
at  her  found  words,  in  her  own  despite. 

"  Have  I  killed — your  love,  so  soon  ?  Surely  you 
could  not  make  such  a  suggestion — in  cold  blood,  unless 
—I  had." 

"  You  are  simply  shifting  the  argument,"  he  answered 
without  unbending.  "  You  know  whether — I  love  you. 
In  fact,  if  it  comes  to  that,  it  is  you,  my  dear,  who  have  not 
yet  grasped  the  full  meaning  of  the  word,  or  you  would 
not  need  to  be  told  that  the  free  choice  I  am  offering  you 
of  compromise  with  me,  or  independence — without  me,  is 
the  utmost  proof  one  can  give  that  you  and  your  happiness 
stand  absolutely  first " 

At  that  she  made  an  impulsive  movement  towards  him, 
and  her  fingers  closed  upon  his  arm.  But  with  inexorable 
gentleness  he  unclasped  her  hand,  and  put  it  from  him. 

"  No,  no,"  he  said,  and  there  was  more  pain  than  hard- 
ness in  his  tone.  "Better  keep  clear  of  that  form  of 
argument,  for  the  present.  Passion  settles  nothing.  Con- 
tact is  not  fusion.  We  have  proved  it, — you  and  I.  It 
is  not  a  question  of  what  we  feel.  That  may  be  taken  for 
granted  by  now.  It  is  a  question  of  what  we  are,  indi- 
vidually, intrinsically ;  of  how  much  each  of  us  is  ready  to 
forego  for  the  sake  of  the  one  essential  form  of  union  that 
counts  between  a  man  and  woman  who  are  not  mere 
materialists ;  and  we  are  neither  of  us  that.  I  don't  want 
my  answer  to-night,  nor  even  to-morrow.  I  have  not 
spoken  on  impulse  ;  and  I  want  you  to  think  very 
thoroughly  over  all  I  have  said  when  your  brain  is  cooler 
than  it  is  just  now." 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  357 

"  But  suppose — I  don't  want  to  think  it  over  ? " 

A  half  smile  dispelled  his  gravity.  "Knowing  you 
intimately,  I  should  not  suppose  anything  else !  In  the 
two  big  crises  of  our  life,  remember,  you  were  ruled  purely 
by  impulse  and  emotion,  and  you  brought  us  very  near  to 
shipwreck  in  consequence.  But  this  time,  you  will  do 
what  I  ask,  and  give  my  slower  methods  a  chance ;  be- 
cause this  time  your  decision  will  be  final.  If  we  are  to 
separate  again,  we  separate  for  life.  That  much  /have 
decided.  The  rest — I  leave  in  your  hands." 

She  stood  very  still,  like  one  magnetised,  her  gaze 
riveted  on  the  carpet.  His  steadfast  aloofness  had 
chilled  her  first  headlong  impulse  of  surrender ;  and  she 
knew  now  that  he  was  right : — that,  dearly  as  she  loved 
him,  independence  in  thought,  word,  and  act  were  still  the 
breath  of  life  for  her  and  for  her  art.  He  had  put  the 
matter  to  practical  proof  with  a  sledge-hammer  directness 
all  his  own;  had  opened  her  eyes  to  the  humiliating 
truth  that  never  in  all  her  thirty  years  of  living  had 
she  given  up  anything  that  mattered  for  any  one.  And 
now 

She  raised  her  head  with  a  start.  Zyarulla  had  brought 
in  a  telegram,  and  Lenox  stood  reading  it  with  a  trans- 
figured face,  an  eager  light  in  his  eyes. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  she  wondered,  not  daring  to  ask.  "  He 
is  going  away  somewhere — he  is  delighted.  And  he  says 
I  come  absolutely  first." 

Then  Lenox  raised  his  eyes,  and  a  lightning  instinct 
told  her  that  for  the  moment  he  had  forgotten  her 
existence. 

"  Well,  Quita,"  he  said,  unconscious  elation  in  his  tone, 
"  I  think  the  Foreign  Office  must  have  known  we  had  got 
to  a  difficult  corner,  and  decided  to  give  us  a  helping 
hand.  They  want  me  to  undertake  an  exploration  north 
of  Kashmir,  and  remonstrate  with  a  small  chief  who  has 
been  misbehaving  up  there.  I  am  to  report  myself  at 
Simla  ek  dum,1  to  receive  detailed  instructions  of  the 
mission,  and  we  shall  have  time  enough  to  think  things 
out  very  thoroughly  before  I  get  back." 

"  Time  ?    How  long  ? " 

1  At  once. 


358  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

Her  colour  had  ebbed;  but  the  change  in  him  had 
steeled  her  to  unreasoning  hardness  of  heart. 

"  Six  months,  certain.     Possibly  more." 

"  And  you  are  as  glad  as  you  can  be.  One  sees  that 
quite  plainly." 

Her  tone  stung  him  to  sharp  retort. 

"  Yes,  I  am  glad — since  you  insist ;  and  since  I  am  no 
hypocrite." 

Pride  would  not  suffer  her  to  remind  him  of  his  assur- 
ance, "You  stand  absolutely  first."  Instead  she  asked 
him  in  a  repressed  voice — 

"  Doesn't  it  occur  to  you,  after  your  eloquence  about 
what  each  of  us  should  give  up,  that  this  is  precisely 
where  your  share  of  the  compromise  comes  in?" 

"  It  occurred  to  me  nearly  a  year  ago,"  he  said  simply. 
"  After  our  talk  at  Kajiar,  I  faced  the  fact  that  there  was 
an  end  of  my  exploring  as  a  hobby ; — at  least  on  the  big 
scale  that  appeals  to  me  most.  It  was  just  the  price  one 
had  to  pay  for  getting  you  back  again ;  and  I  paid  it — 
willingly.  In  fact,  I  should  never  have  mentioned  it,  if 
you  hadn't  dragged  it  out  of  me." 

The  quiet  of  his  tone,  and  the  kindliness  in  the  blue 
eyes  that  challenged  her  own,  brought  the  blood  into  her 
face.  He  shamed  her  every  way,  this  big  husband  of 
hers.  He  had  counted  the  cost  and  paid  it — willingly. 
He  would  not  even  have  mentioned  it.  There  you  have 
the  essence  of  the  man.  Her  lids  fell,  and  her  incurable 
instinct  for  comedy  set  a  faint  dimple  in  her  cheek.  Here 
he  was  at  his  old  trick  of  dragging  her  on  to  higher 
ground ;  and  the  perverse  spirit  of  her  loved  and  hated 
him  for  it  in  one  breath. 

"But  you  are  going  now?"  she  whispered,  without 
looking  up. 

"Certainly.  That  is  quite  another  matter.  When 
Government  needs  my  services  for  work  which  I  have 
made  a  speciality,  it  would  be  neither  right  nor  possible 
for  me  to  refuse ;  and,  frankly,  I  am  glad,  because  I  love 
the  work,  fully  as  much  as  you  love  yours ;  and  because 
the  opportunity  could  hardly  have  come  at  a  better 
moment." 

"  And  I— go  back  to  Michael  ? " 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  359 

"Yes.  For  six  months  you  will  be  free  to  travel, 
paint — what  you  will ;  and  for  six  months  I  shall  have 
my  mountains  to  grapple  with."  Again  the  light  sprang 
to  his  eyes.  "  By  the  end  of  that  time  we  shall  know 
once  for  all  how  much  we  are  ready  to  forego  for  the  sake 
of  spending  our  lives  together.  That  is  the  ultimate  test 
of  a  big  thing,  Quita  —  what  one  will  give  up  for  it. 
Marriage  is  a  big  thing ;  and  if  ours  is  built  on  the  right 
foundations,  it  will  stand  the  test.  Now,  I  shall  have  a 
good  deal  to  see  to  this  evening,  and  I  think  you  had 
better  go  to  bed  early.  You  look  tired." 

"I  am  tired."  She  realised  suddenly  that  all  the 
spring  had  gone  out  of  her.  "  When  do  you  leave  ? " 

"To-morrow,  most  likely.  You  had  better  write  to 
Michael." 

"Very  well.  I  suppose  —  one  will  be  able  to  write 
to  you?" 

"Yes.  Now  and  then.  But  for  a  great  part  of  the 
time  I  shall  be  beyond  the  reach  of  posts." 

Though  his  surface  hardness  had  melted,  his  voice  had 
an  impersonal  note  that  crushed  her,  making  her  feel  as 
if  she  were  dealing  with  a  cosmic  force,  rather  than  a 
human  being ; — one  of  his  own  detestable  mountains,  for 
instance.  But  for  that,  it  is  conceivable  that  there  might 
have  been  something  approaching  a  '  scene ' ;  that  she 
might  have  obeyed  her  unreasoning  impulse  to  plead  with 
him,  and  exhort  him  not  to  push  his  test  of  her  to  such 
pitiless  lengths.  As  it  was,  she  sank  into  a  chair  without 
answering ;  and  he  turned  towards  the  study  with  a  new 
lift  of  his  head,  a  new  elasticity  of  step  that  struck  at  her 
heart. 

For,  in  truth,  until  he  read  that  summons  from  Simla 
he  had  scarcely  known  how  irresistibly  the  old  free  life 
drew  him ;  how  the  white  silence  of  the  mountains  called 
to  him  as  friend  calls  friend ;  and  the  whole  heart  of  him 
answered, '  I  come.'  '  As  the  dew  is  dried  up  by  the  sun, 
so  are  the  sins  of  mankind  by  the  glory  of  Himachal.' 
The  words  of  the  old  Hindoo  worshipper  sprang  to  his 
brain,  and  for  him  they  were  no  fanciful  imagery,  but  a 
radiant  truth.  Six  months  of  the  Himalayas,  six  months 
of  freedom  from  brain  work,  and  headache,  and  strain, — 


360  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

for  though  loyalty  denied  it,  the  past  month  had  been  a 
strain, — would  suffice  to  break  the  power  of  the  hideous 
thing  that  was  sapping  his  manhood ;  to  dispel  the  great 
black  something  that  shadowed  his  mind  and  spirit — to 
set  him  on  his  feet  again,  a  free  man. 

But  since  he  had  kept  the  deeper  source  of  his  trouble 
secret  from  Quita,  she  did  not  hold  the  key  to  the  deeper 
source  of  his  joy.  And  now,  lying  back  in  his  chair,  her 
eyes  closed,  violet  shadows  showing  beneath  the  black 
line  of  her  lashes,  she  saw  herself,  momentarily,  as  a 
trivial  thing  —  a  mere  tangle  of  nerves,  perversity,  and 
egotism  —  flung  aside  without  hesitation,  perhaps  even 
with  relief,  at  the  first  call  of  the  larger  life,  the  larger 
loyalty.  Two  tears  stole  out  on  to  her  lashes,  and  slipped 
down  her  cheek.  Mere  concessions  to  overwrought  feel- 
ing, and  she  knew  it ;  knew,  in  the  depths  of  her,  that 
she  was  no  triviality,  but  a  woman  into  whose  hands 
power  had  been  given ;  the  power  of  things  primeval  that 
are  the  mainspring  of  life. 

For  Quita  also  had  her  secret — at  once  mysterious  and 
disturbing;  since  to  your  highly-strung  woman  mother- 
hood rarely  comes  as  a  matter  of  course — a  secret  that 
brought  home  to  her,  with  a  force  as  quiet  and  compel- 
ling as  her  husband  himself,  the  awful  sense  of  the  human 
bond.  He  had  told  her  she  was  free  to  choose ;  to  take 
him  or  leave  him  as  she  saw  fit.  But  the  dice  were 
loaded.  They  were  bound  to  one  another  now  by  a  far 
stronger  power  than  mere  law ;  by  the  power  of  action 
and  consequence,  which  transcends  all  laws. 

She  had  guessed  the  truth,  and  rebelled  against  it,  on 
that  day  when  Honor  had  unwittingly  spoken  the  right 
word  at  the  right  moment,  as  those  who  believe  in  Divine 
transmission  through  human  agency  are  apt  to  do.  She 
had  faced  and  accepted  it  during  Eldred's  absence ;  but 
had  not  found  courage  since  his  return  to  put  it  into 
words ;  had,  in  fact,  with  the  revival  of  inspiration,  thrust 
the  knowledge  aside,  and  deliberately  tried  to  forget. 

Now  it  came  back  upon  her,  unrebuked ;  and  while  she 
lay  thinking  over  all  that  had  passed  between  them,  one 
insistent  question  repeated  itself  in  her  brain,  "Can  I 
tell  him  ?  Shall  I  tell  him  before  he  goes  ?  "  And  after 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  361 

much  debating,  she  decided  on  silence.  In  the  first  place, 
he  would  be  saved  anxiety  if  he  should  not  return  in 
time ;  and  in  the  second  place — though  this  consideration 
stood  undeniably  first  with  her — she  preferred  that  he,  at 
least,  should  believe  in  the  fiction  of  their  freedom ;  that 
nothing  should  weigh  with  him,  or  draw  him  back  to  her 
but  his  unalterable  need  of  herself.  How  far  her  secret 
was  her  own  to  hide  or  reveal,  how  far  she  had  any  right 
to  withhold  such  knowledge  from  the  man  on  the  eve  of  a 
perilous  undertaking, — the  man  to  whom  insight  told  her 
it  would  mean  immeasurably  much, — were  questions  that 
simply  did  not  enter  her  mind.  The  artist's  egotism,  and 
the  woman's  love  of  dominion,  left  no  room  for  fine-drawn 
scruples  of  the  kind.  Never  till  to-night  had  she  realised 
how  the  mountains  claimed  and  held  him;  and  in  her 
sudden  fear  of  losing  him,  either  through  misadventure  or 
through  the  reawakening  of  the  explorer  in  him,  she  lost 
sight  of  the  original  point  at  issue ;  of  the  fact  that  it  was 
her  own  work,  not  his,  which  had  threatened  to  stand 
between  them. 

An  hour  later  she  went  into  the  study,  where  Lenox, 
his  brow  furrowed  into  deep  lines,  bent  over  an  outspread 
map.  A  glance  showed  her  that  already  in  spirit  he  was 
miles  away  from  her,  planning  the  exploration  of  passes 
and  glaciers  guessed  at  in  former  journeyings,  engrossed, 
mind  and  heart,  in  the  possibilities  ahead. 

She  came  and  stood  beside  him.  "I  am  going  now, 
Eldred,"  she  said,  a  touch  of  listlessness  in  her  tone. 

He  looked  up  and  nodded.  "That's  right.  You  do 
look  rather  fagged  this  evening." 

"  Only  a  headache,"  she  answered,  flushing  and  avoiding 
his  eyes.  "  I  shall  be  all  right  if  I  sleep  well." 

"  Do  you  ever  sleep  badly  ? "  he  asked,  with  the  quick 
sympathy  of  the  sufferer. 

"  Oh  dear,  no."     She  hesitated.     "  Are  you  coming  ? " 

"  Yes— later." 

Still  she  stood  irresolute.  Caresses  had  become  rare 
between  them  of  late ;  and  now  pride  as  well  as  shyness 
checked  her  natural  impulse.  In  turning  away,  she 
allowed  her  left  hand  to  swing  outward,  ever  so  little, 


362  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

merely  by  way  of  experiment.  "  He  won't  see  it,"  she 
told  herself.  And,  as  if  in  mute  denial,  his  own  hand  met 
and  grasped  it,  close  and  hard. 

On  the  threshold  she  paused  and  looked  back.  He  was 
miles  away  again,  hopelessly  out  of  reach.  A  sudden 
thought  seized  her,  tempted  her.  Half  a  dozen  words 
would  suffice  to  snap  the  chain  that  held  him ;  to  bring 
her  into  his  arms.  Yet  now  it  seemed  impossible  to 
speak  them,  even  if  she  would ;  and  she  went  out,  leav- 
ing him  in  undisturbed  possession  of  his  maps  and  his 
mountains. 

She  lingered  long  over  her  undressing;  and  when  it 
was  over  could  not  bring  herself  to  put  out  the  lamp; 
but  lay,  waiting  and  listening  for  his  coming.  Then,  as 
the  night  slipped  away  and  the  silence  became  a  burden, 
a  dead  weight  upon  brain  and  heart,  the  old  haunting 
dread  of  those  days  in  Dalhousie  came  back  upon  her, 
and  she  shivered.  The  Pagan  in  her  leaned  too  readily 
to  superstitious  fancy,  and  her  dread  shaped  itself  finally 
in  a  definite  thought.  "  If  he  comes  to  me  now,  I  know 
I  shall  conquer  the  mountains  in  the  end.  But  if  he 
doesn't  come,  they  will  be  too  strong  for  me.  They  will 
take  him  from  me  for  good." 

And  he  did  not  come,  till  one  of  the  morning ;  when 
he  found  her  fast  asleep,  the  lamp  still  burning  beside  her. 


CHAPTEE   XXXIII. 

"  Ledge  by  ledge  outbroke  new  marvels,  now  minute,  and  now  immense  : 
Earth's  most  exquisite  disclosure,  heaven's  own  God  in  evidence  !  " 

— BROWNING. 

"  SAHIB,  dinner  is  ready." 

"  I  also  am  ready.  More  than  ready ! "  Lenox  answered, 
a  twinkle  in  his  eyes. 

Zyarulla  responded  by  a  gleam  of  teeth  as  he  followed 
his  master  to  the  camp  fire  of  roots  and  scrub,  on  whose 
summit  '  dinner '  was  served  steaming  hot ;  a  delectable 


THE   VALLEY    OF    DECISION.  363 

mass  of  mutton  and  rice,  eaten  straight  from  the  copper 
cooking  vessel,  lest  the  ice-bound  breath  of  the  mountains 
freeze  it  before  it  could  reach  its  destination.  The  fire 
itself  was  small,  and  gave  out  little  heat :  for  in  the  heart 
of  the  glaciers,  sixteen  hundred  feet  up,  fuel  is  scarce,  and 
even  more  precious  than  food. 

The  five  human  forms,  crouching  close  to  it,  had  been 
Lenox's  sole  companions  through  three  months  of  hard- 
ship and  danger,  sweetened  by  the  exhilaration  of  conquer- 
ing such  difficulties  as  brace  a  man's  nerve  and  fortitude 
to  the  utmost.  Four  of  them  were  Gurkhas, — a  Havildar 
and  three  men;  short,  sturdy  hill  folk  of  the  Mongol 
type,  with  the  spirits  of  schoolboys  and  the  grit  of  heroes. 
The  fifth  was  a  Pathan  from  Desmond's  regiment,  told  off 
to  act  as  orderly  and  surveyor;  a  man  of  immovable 
gravity,  who  shared  but  two  qualities  with  the  thick- 
headed, stout-hearted  little  soldiers  from  Nepal : — courage 
of  the  first  order,  and  devotion  to  the  British  officer,  for 
whom  any  one  of  them  would  have  laid  down  his  life,  if 
need  be ;  not  as  a  matter  of  sentiment  or  heroism,  but 
simply  as  a  matter  of  course.  The  Gurkhas  had,  in  fact, 
settled  it  among  themselves  before  starting,  that  if  any 
harm  came  to  the  Sahib  none  of  them  were  to  disgrace 
the  name  of  the  regiment  by  returning  without  their 
leader. 

Now,  as  he  neared  the  fire,  looking  bigger  and  broader 
than  usual  in  his  sheep-skin  coat  and  Balaklava  cap, — his 
jaw  and  throat  protected  by  a  beard  black  as  his  hair, — 
all  five  stood  up  to  receive  him :  and  the  quivering  light 
showed  that  they  also  were  muffled  to  the  eyes. 

"  It  is  a  burra  Jchana 1  to-night,  Haziir,"  the  Havildar 
informed  him  with  a  chuckle ;  his  slits  of  eyes  vanishing 
as  his  teeth  flashed  out.  "In  a  treeless  country,  the 
castor -oil  is  a  big  plant!  And  the  cook,  having  three 
handfuls  of  flour  to  spare,  hath  made  us  three  chupattis ; 
one  for  your  Honour,  and  one  to  be  broken  up  among 
ourselves." 

"  No,  no,  Havildar ;  fair  play,"  Lenox  answered,  smiling. 
"  We  will  divide  the  three." 

But  seeing  that  insistence  would  damp  their  childish 
v  Big  dinner. 


364  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

spirit  of  festivity,  he  accepted  Benjamin's  portion ;  and 
satisfied  his  conscience  by  sharing  it  with  Brutus,  the 
inevitable,  who  snuggled  contentedly  under  a  corner  of 
his  poshteen,  and  thanked  his  stars  he  was  not  as  other 
dogs,  a  mere  loafer  round  clubs  and  cantonments.  It  was 
bad  to  be  cold  and  hungry;  to  plunge  shoulder-deep 
through  snow,  and  slither  across  hideous  slopes  of  ice ; 
but  it  was  uplifting  to  share  your  master's  dinner  and 
your  master's  bed ;  and  there  are  few  things  more  sustain- 
ing than  a  sense  of  one's  own  importance  in  the  general 
scheme  of  things ! 

The  fire  was  their  mess-table,  round  which  they  dined 
together,  to  save  time  and  trouble  in  cooking ;  and  also 
because  community  of  hardship  and  danger  links  men  to 
one  another  with  hooks  of  steel;  dispels  all  minor  dis- 
tinctions of  colour  and  creed;  reveals  the  Potter's  raw 
material  underlying  all. 

And  while  they  so  sat,  enjoying  their  one-course  dinner 
as  no  gourmet  ever  enjoyed  a  city  feast,  night  and  frost 
crept  stealthily,  almost  visibly,  over  the  stupendous  snow- 
peaks  and  pinnacles  of  opaque  ice  that  towered  on  all 
sides,  breathing  out  cold;  and  contemplating,  as  if  in 
silent  amazement,  these  atoms  of  '  valiant  dust '  who  dared 
and  were  beaten  back,  and  dared  again  ;  who  day  by  day 
pushed  farther  into  their  white  sanctuary  of  silence,  in 
search  of  a  pass  whose  existence  was  guessed  at  rather 
than  known.  At  sunset  there  had  been  a  brief  burst  of 
colour, — green  and  opal  and  rose ;  but  by  now  the  moun- 
tains shimmered  grey  and  hard  as  steel  under  the  tremu- 
lous fire  of  the  stars ;  and  every  moment  the  grip  of  frost 
tightened  upon  half-melted  glacier,  upon  man  and  beast. 
For  behind  the  little  group  of  servants,  who  sat  apart, 
enjoying  their  own  meal  in  their  own  fashion,  stood 
twelve  apathetic  Kashmiri  ponies, — unconsidered  martyrs 
to  man's  lust  of  achievement, — who  endured  to  the  full 
the  miseries  of  mountaineering,  and  reaped  none  of  its 
rewards. 

Dinner  over,  the  fire  must  be  allowed  to  die  down.  A 
pipe  over  the  embers,  and  a  sheep-skin  bag  shared  with 
Brutus,  was  the  evening's  unvarying  programme  on  this 
detached  expedition  into  the  hidden  core  of  things ;  tents 


• 

THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  365 

and  lesser  luxuries  having  been  left  with  the  heavy 
baggage  in  charge  of  two  Gurkhas  at  the  foot  of  the 
pass. 

While  Lenox  sat  smoking,  and  encouraging  the  fire  to 
keep  alive  as  long  as  might  be,  his  men  vied  with  one 
another  in  discovering  sheltered  corners  for  the  night. 
The  Havildar  was  in  high  spirits  after  his  morsel  of 
chupatti,  washed  down  with  a  mouthful  of  rum ;  and  the 
laughter  of  his  comrades  echoed  strangely  among  the 
ghostly  peaks. 

"  You  seem  to  be  in  great  form,  Chundra  Sen,"  Lenox 
called  out  at  last.  "What's  the  joke  now?" 

"We  are  seeking  soft  stones  to  sleep  on,  Hazur;  and 
betting,  like  the  Sakiblog,  which  of  us  shall  find  the 
softest!" 

Lenox  joined  in  the  laugh  that  greeted  this  sally. 

"  Good  men,"  he  said.  "  Hope  you  find  a  few  !  First- 
rate  joke  of  yours,  Havildar." 

"  By  ill  fortune,  it  was  not  I  who  made  it,  Haziir !  But 
an  officer  Sahib,  up  in  Kabul ;  one  who  knew  that  it  is 
good  to  laugh  even  when  the  knife  is  at  the  throat."  And 
the  search  went  forward  with  renewed  zest. 

Apparently  soft  stones  were  forthcoming:  for  one  by 
one  the  men  rolled  themselves  up  in  their  blankets  and 
sheep-skins,  and  slept  soundly  on  two  hundred  feet  of  ice 
under  a  freezing  sky ;  leaving  Lenox  alone  with  his  pipe 
and  his  thoughts,  and  the  silence  that  dwelt  like  a  pres- 
ence in  the  eerie  place. 

As  a  rule  a  hard  day  on  the  glaciers  left  him  so  over- 
powered with  sleep  that  he  could  scarcely  finish  his 
smoke :  but  to  -  night  his  brain  was  alert  and  active ; 
stimulated  by  the  knowledge  that  two  more  days  of 
climbing  ought  to  bring  him  at  last  to  the  Pass  of  his 
dreams : — the  Pass  that  must  be  found  and  crossed  in  the 
teeth  of  all  that  Nature  might  do  to  hinder  him ! 

That  discovery  would  close  the  first  phase  of  his  journey: 
and  to-night,  looking  back  over  it,  from  the  day  of  his 
departure  for  Simla,  he  saw  that  it  had  been  good. 

Sir  Henry  Forsyth,  Foreign  Secretary,  and  an  old  school 
friend  of  his  brother's,  had  instructed  him  to  work  his  way 
up  to  Hunza,  a  small  independent  state  north  of  Kashmir, 


366  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

hidden  among  lofty  mountains  and  impenetrable  valleys, 
whence  robber  bands — secure  from  retaliation — had  for 
long  amused  and  enriched  themselves  by  flying  descents 
upon  neighbouring  tribes,  and  upon  caravans  passing  from 
Asia  to  India.  And  now,  after  an  unusually  daring  raid, 
the  peace-loving  Kirghiz  of  the  district  had  appealed  to 
the  Indian  Government  for  protection  and  help. 

Lenox,  with  his  little  escort  of  six  Gurkhas  and  one 
Pathan,  was  to  enter  this  stronghold  of  brigands ;  reason 
with  their  chief,  and  bind  him  down  to  good  behaviour  for 
the  future.  In  addition,  Sir  Henry  suggested  that  instead 
of  going  to  Hunza  direct,  he  should  strike  out  eastward 
from  Kashmir,  working  his  way  round  through  the  great 
Mustagh  Mountains,  and  exploring  as  he  went ;  also  that 
he  should  finally  push  on  northward,  and  penetrate  as  far 
into  the  Pamirs  as  the  approach  of  winter  would  permit. 

"There  will  be  no  difficulty  with  the  authorities.  I 
have  arranged  all  that ;  and  you  need  not  be  back  at  Dera 
till  October  or  November,"  the  great  man  had  concluded, 
in  a  tone  half  question,  half  command. 

"No,  sir.  I  may  as  well  do  all  I  can  while  I'm  up 
there." 

Whereat  Sir  Henry  had  eyed  him  thoughtfully  from 
between  narrowed  lids.  For  all  his  great  brain,  he  was 
a  man  of  one  idea:  and  that  idea — "The  North  safe- 
guarded." Mere  men,  himself  included,  were  for  him  no 
more  than  pawns  in  the  great  game  to  be  played  out 
between  two  Empires,  on  the  chess-board  of  Central  Asia. 
But  .  .  there  are  pawns,  and  pawns :  and  Sir  Henry  had 
had  his  eye  on  Lenox  for  some  years ;  recognising  in  him 
a  pawn  of  high  value ;  a  man  to  be  sent  to  the  front  on 
the  first  opportunity,  and  kept  there  as  long  as  might  be. 
The  news  of  his  marriage  had  been  a  shock  to  the  Foreign 
Secretary:  and  it  is  conceivable  that  he  had  wished  to 
test  Lenox  by  asking  him  to  undertake  such  a  mission 
within  a  year  of  the  fatal  event.  He  was  speculating 
now,  as  he  watched  him,  how  far  the  'woman  complication' 
was  likely  to  count  with  this  impenetrable  Scot.  With 
Sir  Henry,  after  the  first  year  or  two,  the  woman  had  not 
counted  at  all :  and,  unhappily  for  her,  she  knew  it. 

The  pause  lasted  so  long  that  Lenox  shifted  his  position : 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  367 

but  Sir  Henry  only  said,  "  I  was  relieved  when  I  got  your 
wire." 

"  Surely  I  could  not  have  answered  otherwise  ? " 

"  I  am  glad  you  think  so.  But  frankly,  when  I  heard 
of  your  marriage,  I  was  half  afraid  I  had  lost  one  of  my 
ablest  men." 

Lenox  smiled.     "  Not  quite  as  bad  as  that,  sir,  I  hope." 

"Well  then  .  .  what  about  Gilgit ?" 

Sir  Henry  spoke  carelessly ;  but  his  eyes  were  on 
Lenox's  face,  and  he  saw  him  flinch. 

"  Is  that  likely  to  be  an  immediate  contingency  ? "  Lenox 
asked  quietly. 

"  Next  year,  I  should  say,  as  things  are  going  now." 

"  Well,  I  hope  it  may  be  possible.  But  .  .  one  would 
have  to  think  it  over." 

"  Talk  it  over,  you  mean  .  .  eh  ? " 

Something  in  the  tone  angered  Lenox. 

"  Yes,  sir  .  .  talk  it  over.  That  is  what  I  meant,"  he 
had  answered,  looking  straightly  at  the  other:  and  they 
had  returned  somewhat  abruptly  to  the  matter  in  hand. 

But  Lenox  had  dined  with  the  Foreign  Secretary  that 
night,  and  they  had  parted  good  friends,  as  ever:  Sir 
Henry  begging  the  younger  man  to  ask  him  for  anything 
that  might  serve  to  lesson  the  hardships  and  dangers 
ahead  of  him,  adding,  as  they  shook  hands:  "  I  assure  you, 
my  dear  fellow,  we  who  sit  in  Simla  fully  realise  how 
much  the  country  owes  to  men  of  your  sort ;  and  grudge 
no  money  spent  in  making  the  way  smoother  for  you." 

But  Lenox,  knowing  well  that  hardships  and  perils  loom 
larger  in  an  easy-chair  than  on  the  slope  of  a  glacier,  had 
asked  for  little,  beyond  permission  to  depart,  and  that 
speedily. 

A  few  days  at  Pindi  had  sufficed  for  the  collecting  of 
stores  and  equipment.  Then  he  had  pushed  northward 
in  earnest,  picking  up  his  escort  of  Gurkhas  from  their 
station  in  the  foot-hills:  and  so  on  through  Kashmir, 
where  spring  had  already  flung  her  bridal  veil  over  the 
orchards,  and  retreating  snow-wreaths  had  left  the  hills 
carpeted  with  a  mosaic  of  colour, — primula,  iris,  orchid, 
and  groundlings  innumerable :  over  the  Zoji-la  Pass,  into 
the  shadeless,  fantastic  desolation  of  Ladak ;  and  on,  across 


368  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

stark  desert  and  soundless  snow-fields,  to  Leh,  the  terminus 
of  all  caravans  from  India  and  Central  Asia.  Here  Lenox 
had  spent  two  days  with  one  Captain  Burrows  of  the 
Bengal  Cavalry,  who,  with  a  handful  of  half -starved 
Kashmiri  soldiers,  upheld  the  interests  of  the  British  Eaj 
on  this  uttermost  edge  of  Empire.  Here  also  he  found 
a  letter  from  Quita;  read  and  re-read  it,  and  stowed  it 
away  in  his  breast-pocket,  trying  not  to  be  aware  of  a 
haunting  ache  deep  down  in  him,  which  must  perforce  be 
ignored.  The  old  charm  of  the  Road,  the  '  glory  of  going 
on,'  that  works  like  madness  in  the  blood,  was  strong  upon 
him  as  ever.  But  whereas,  in  former  journeyings,  he  had 
been  one  man,  he  was  now  two.  The  whole-hearted 
ecstasy  of  travel  would  never  again  be  his.  He  had 
given  a  part  of  himself  into  a  woman's  keeping ;  and  let 
him  put  the  earth's  diameter  between  them,  she  would 
hold  him  still.  Every  week,  every  day  that  drew  him 
farther  from  her  did  but  bring  home  to  him  more  forcibly 
the  mysterious,  compelling  power  of  marriage,  its  large 
reserves  of  loyalty,  its  sacred  and  intimate  revelations, 
its  inexorable  grip  on  life  and  character. 

But  meanwhile,  there  was  the  Eoad  before  him;  a 
rough  road,  full  of  vicissitudes  and  anxieties,  of  interests 
and  anticipations  that  left  him  small  leisure  for  the  com- 
munings  of  his  heart. 

Before  leaving  Leh,  hill  camels  and  ponies  had  been 
added  unto  him,  besides  twenty -one  decrepit  Kashmir 
soldiers, — a  type  extinct  since  they  have  been  handled 
by  British  officers.  These  were  to  be  deposited  by  Lenox 
at  his  so-called  '  base  of  operations,'  by  way  of  guarding  the 
trade  route  so  grievously  troubled  by  the  brigand  state. 

Followed  two  more  weeks  of  marching, — rougher  march- 
ing this  time, — through  the  core  of  the  lofty  mountains 
that  divide  India  from  Central  Asia ;  across  the  terrible 
Depsang  Plains,  seventeen  thousand  feet  up;  and  over 
four  passes  choked  with  snow ;  till  they  came  upon  a  de- 
serted fort,  set  in  the  midst  of  stark  space,  and  knew  that 
here,  indeed,  was  the  limit  of  human  habitation.  Next 
day  the  work  of  exploration  had  begun  in  earnest.  Week 
after  week,  with  unwearying  persistence,  they  had  pushed 
on,  upward,  always  upward,  through  regions  sacred  to  the 


THE   VALLEY   OP   DECISION.  369 

eagles  and  the  clouds;  working  along  streams  that  cut 
their  way  through  hillsides  steep  as  houses,  or  along 
tracks  that  ran  to  polished  ledges  of  rock  and  dropped 
sheer  to  unimaginable  depths;  clambering  over  formid- 
able ranges  by  any  chance  opening  that  could  be  dignified 
by  the  name  of  a  pass;  the  eternally  cheery  Gurkhas 
solacing  themselves  with  rum ;  the  Pathans  with  opium ; 
the  Scot  with  rare  nips  of  brandy,  on  the  bitterest  nights. 
Still  more  rarely, — at  wider  and  wider  intervals  of  time, — 
he  drew  from  his  breast-pocket  a  pill-box,  like  the  one 
still  locked  in  his  writing-table  drawer  at  home.  Its 
contents  were  running  very  low  by  now ;  and,  once  gone, 
they  would  never  again  be  replenished.  That  he  knew ; 
with  a  knowledge  born  not  of  arrogance,  but  of  faith  that 
somehow,  somewhen  the  right  must  prevail. 

And  to-night, — as  he  sat  alone  by  the  fire,  watching  the 
greyness  of  death  quench  spark  after  spark  of  living  light, 
while  a  late  moon  sailed  leisurely  into  view,  overlaying 
the  steely  hardness  of  ice  and  snow  with  a  veil  of  shim- 
mering silver, — he  took  out  the  box,  and  opened  it.  He 
knew  it  held  two  pellets :  no  more.  Why  not  take  them 
at  once,  and  so  break  the  last  link  of  the  devil's  chain  ? 
He  turned  them  into  his  palm,  .  .  and  paused,  while  the 
enemy  within  whispered  words  of  seduction  hard  to  be 
withstood.  But  now  a  second  voice  spoke  in  him  also : 
a  voice  of  mingled  authority  and  pleading.  Why  not 
fling  away  both  box  and  pellets,  foregoing  the  final  de- 
gradation, the  final  rapture,  that  every  nerve  in  him 
clamoured  for  more  imperatively  than  he  dared  admit 
even  to  himself. 

For  some  reason  the  suggestion  brought  Desmond 
vividly  to  his  mind: — Desmond,  with  his  characteristic 
assertion :  "  Of  course  you  will  succeed.  You  have  won 
the  great  talisman."  Yes.  He  was  right! — 'the  great 
talisman.'  Surely  if  marriage  were  worth  anything,  if 
it  meant  more  to  a  man  than  mere  domesticity,  and 
material  satisfaction,  it  ought  by  rights  to  act  as  a  talis- 
man to  protect  him  from  the  evils  of  his  baser  self. 

While  thinking,  he  had  mechanically  returned  the 
pellets  to  the  box,  closing  it  firmly,  crushing  it  between 
his  hands:  and  now,  with  a  wide  sweep  of  his  arm,  he 

2  A 


370  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

flung  it  far  from  him,  into  the  blue-black  mystery  of  a 
ravine  that  swooped  past  the  camping  -  ground  to  the 
valley  below. 

"  Thank  God  that's  done  with ! "  he  muttered ;  though 
as  yet  the  pain  rather  than  the  elation  of  conquest  pre- 
vailed. Then,  lifting  Brutus  in  his  arms,  as  though  he 
had  been  a  child,  he  slipped,  dog  and  all,  into  his  sheep- 
skin bag,  and  slept  without  dreams. 

An  hour  later,  a  sudden  gust  from  the  north  swept 
down  the  ravine.  Battalions  of  cloud  blotted  out  the 
stars ;  and  a  host  of  snow-flakes  whirled  above  the  sleeping 
camp,  like  spirits  of  fairies,  incapable  of  doing  harm. 

The  chill  discomfort  of  snow  melting  on  their  faces 
woke  the  men,  one  by  one,  at  an  unearthly  hour,  to  find 
their  whole  world  shrouded  in  white,  and  a  mist  of  snow- 
dust  still  falling.  But  Lenox,  undismayed,  ordered  tea 
and  biscuits,  and  lost  no  time  in  setting  out. 

A  stiff  climb  up  the  ravine  into  which  he  had  flung  his 
pill-box  lay  ahead  of  them :  but  since  the  side  nearest  the 
camp  was  unbroken  glacier,  it  seemed  wisest  to  hack  their 
way  across  it  before  attempting  the  ascent. 

It  was  freezing  hard:  earth  and  sky  were  muffled  in 
fine  white  powder,  and  scudding  clouds  constantly  hid 
the  moon.  An  ice-slope  overlaid  with  snow  is  not  pleas- 
ant going  at  the  best  of  times;  and  on  this  one  there 
were  ugly  rents,  into  which  men  and  animals  slipped,  to 
their  sore  discomfort.  But  the  way  of  life  is  by  courage 
and  persistence :  and  in  time  the  thing  was  done. 

The  farther  side  proved  less  formidable :  and  while  they 
halted  to  recoup  their  energies,  a  report  like  thunder,  fol- 
lowed by  an  unmistakable  rushing  sound,  made  every  man 
of  them  catch  his  breath.  It  was  an  avalanche :  and  its 
appalling  crescendo  was  coming  straight  down  the  hill  on 
which  they  stood. 

The  two  Pathans  remained  rigid,  impassive,  —  the 
greater  the  danger  the  cooler  do  these  men  become: 
but  the  Kirghiz — a  creature  without  self-respect — shook 
so  violently  that  he  dropped  the  bridles  of  his  ponies. 

"  Eun,  Sahib  .  .  run  ! "  he  stammered.  "  Or  we  be  all 
dead  men." 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  371 

But  there  was  nowhere  to  run  to,  even  had  running  on 
an  ice-slope  been  possible;  which  it  was  not.  Neither 
was  it  possible  to  guess  the  exact  direction  of  the  invisible 
annihilation  that  was  racing  down  upon  them  through  a 
mist  of  snow.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  stand 
steady — till  that  happened  which  must  happen.  So  they 
stood  steady,  without  speech  or  movement,  like  men 
turned  to  stone. 

It  may  have  been  a  matter  of  minutes.  To  Lenox 
it  seemed  a  matter  of  years.  Because,  in  that  short 
breathing  space,  fear — overmastering  fear — gripped  him 
as  it  never  yet  had  done.  A  year  or  two  ago,  for  all  his 
human  love  of  life,  he  would  have  accepted  a  moun- 
taineer's death  with  something  of  the  same  pride  and 
stoicism  as  a  soldier  accepts  death  in  battle.  But  now  .  . 
now  .  .  life  meant  so  infinitely  more  to  him,  that  every 
throbbing  artery  and  nerve  rebelled  against  the  loss  of  it. 
For  it  is  happiness,  more  than  conscience,  that  'makes 
cowards  of  us  all.' 

Nearer  and  louder  grew  the  appalling  sound.  Then 
a  great  cloud  of  snow  -  dust  burst  in  their  faces,  half 
blinding  them :  and,  with  the  roar  of  an  express  train,  the 
avalanche  sped  down  the  ravine;  burying  the  ice-slope 
they  had  just  crossed ;  and  obliterating  their  footsteps  as 
man's  work  is  obliterated  by  the  soundless  avalanche  of 
the  years. 

All  five  men  let  out  their  breath  in  an  audible 
murmur. 

"  Surra  tamasha,1  Hazur,"  Yusuf  AH  remarked  gravely. 
"  Never  before  have  I  seen  the  like." 

But  for  the  moment  Lenox  had  lost  his  voice.  Ten 
minutes'  delay  in  starting,  and  they  had  been  swept  out 
of  life,  without  a  struggle  or  a  cry.  It  is  this  significance 
of  trifles  in  determining  large  issues  that  at  times  staggers 
faith  and  reason. 

"The  Sahib  still  goes  forward?"  the  Pathan  added 
presently,  as  one  who  merely  asks  for  orders :  and  the 
Sahib  nodded. 

But  this  was  too  much  for  the  Kirghiz.     Emboldened 
by  terror,  he  flung  himself  on  the  ground. 
1  Great  excitement. 


372  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

"I  who  speak  am  as  dust  beneath  the  feet  of  the 
Heaven-born.  But  consider,  Haziir,  there  will  be  many 
more  such  before  the  pass  can  be  reached." 

"  It  is  possible,"  Lenox  answered  unmoved.  "  It  is  also 
possible  that,  like  this  one,  they  will  keep  out  of  our  path. 
Make  no  more  fool's  talk.  Go  back  to  the  ponies." 

The  Kirghiz  was  not  mistaken.  There  were  'many 
more  such'  during  the  next  few  days.  But  Lenox  was 
not  mistaken  either :  for  none  of  them  came  their  way. 
Only  the  muffled  thunder  of  their  descent  broke  the 
stillness  of  a  world  whose  mystery  and  grandeur  surpassed 
anything  Lenox  himself  had  ever  seen. 

For  on  the  second  night,  a  night  without  wind  or  cloud, 
they  camped  in  the  heart  of  the  great  glacier:  and  all 
about  them, — touched  to  ethereal  unreality  by  the  light  of 
moon  and  stars, — were  unnumbered  crests  and  pinnacles, 
fantastically  carven ;  black  mouths  of  caverns,  shaggy 
with  icicles;  sudden  fissures  and  vast  continents  of 
shadow,  like  ink-stains  on  unsullied  purity;  and  over- 
arching all,  the  still  wonder  of  the  sky,  pierced  with 
points  of  flame. 

Tired  as  he  was,  Lenox  resented  the  need  for  shutting 
his  eyes  upon  a  scene  so  stirring  alike  to  the  imagination 
and  the  heart:  a  scene  that  lifted  both,  past  Nature's 
uttermost  sublime,  to  the  Master-Builder,  whose  mind  is 
the  Universe,  and  whose  thoughts  are  its  stars  and 
worlds,  and  the  living  souls  of  men.  But  for  all  that 
Nature  had  her  way  with  him ;  sealing  up  eyes  and  mind 
with  the  double  seal  of  weariness  and  the  supreme  content 
of  the  climber  who  knows  that  the  summit  is  at  hand. 

And  upon  the  fourth  day,  in  a  blaze  of  sunlight,  that 
set  the  uncharted  snow-fields  glittering  like  dust  of 
diamonds,  they  crossed  the  Pass, — Lenox's  own  Pass,  that 
no  living  man  had  set  eyes  or  foot  upon, — and  looked  at 
last  on  that  elusive  'other  side,'  that  draws  certain 
natures  like  a  magnet  to  the  far-flung  limits  of  earth. 

And  in  this  case  the  other  side  proved  well  worth  the 
hardships  endured  to  reach  it.  After  so  many  days 
cooped  up  between  ice- walls  and  precipitous  heights,  Lenox 
caught  his  breath  at  the  magnitude  of  the  view  outspread 
before  him :  an  amphitheatre  of  '  the  greater  gods ' ;  ridge 


THE   VALLEY   OP   DECISION.  3*73 

beyond  ridge,  peak  beyond  dazzling  peak,  stabbing  the 
blue,  the  highest  of  them  little  lower  than  Everest's  self : 
while  across  the  rock-bound  valley  a  host  of  glaciers,  like 
primeval  monsters,  crept  downward  from  the  mountains 
that  gave  them  birth. 

As  Lenox  stood  feasting  his  soul  upon  the  splendour  of 
it  all,  he  knew  that  this  was  one  of  the  great  days  of  his 
life :  that  only  Quita's  inspiring  presence  was  needed  to 
crown  the  triumph  of  it.  Even  in  the  first  glow  of 
achievement,  his  heart  turned  instinctively  to  hers  for 
sympathy  and  approval :  and,  could  she  have  known  it, 
her  haunting  fear  that  the  mountains  would  prove  too 
strong  for  her  had  crumbled  into  nothingness  there  and 
then.  For  if '  many  waters  cannot  quench  love,'  neither 
can  many  mountains  dwarf  it.  When  all  is  said,  it  is 
still  '  the  great  amulet  that  makes  the  world  a  garden ' ; 
and  always  will  be,  while  God's  men  and  women  have  red 
blood  in  their  veins. 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

"  And  echo  circles  in  the  air, 
Is  this  the  end — is  this  the  end  ? " 

— TENNYSON. 

SEPTEMBER  was  drawing  to  a  close.  Every  day  the  sun 
fought  a  losing  battle  against  the  frost  and  bitter  winds 
of  the  Pamirs,  that  pierce  even  through  sheep-skin  coats 
to  the  marrow  of  the  bones;  and  every  night  the  ther- 
mometer fell  to  zero,  or  below  it.  For  winter  begins 
betimes  on  the  "Roof  of  the  World." 

On  just  such  a  night  of  keen  stars,  and  still,  penetrating 
cold,  Lenox  sat  alone  in  his  circular  tent  of  felt  and 
lattice -work — the  one  form  of  habitation  used  by  the 
nomads  of  the  district — his  coat-collar  turned  up,  a  rug 
round  his  legs,  his  fingers  numb  and  blue,  writing  up  the 
official  and  private  records  of  his  week's  work.  In  the 
middle  of  the  floor  a  fire  of  roots  flamed  and  crackled 


374  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

cheerfully  enough,  the  smoke,  and  most  of  the  heat, 
escaping  through  a  hole  in  the  domed  roof  above.  A  felt 
rug  or  two,  a  camp  chair  and  table,  and  three  sheep-skin 
bags,  laid  out  for  sleeping,  gave  an  air  of  rough  comfort 
to  the  place.  But  with  the  thermometer  at  zero,  fuel 
scarce,  and  provisions  running  very  low,  actual  comfort 
was  past  praying  for.  Lenox  shifted  his  chair  an  inch  or 
two  nearer  the  blaze,  drawing  the  camp  table  along  with 
him,  and  disturbing  Brutus,  who  acted  as  foot-warmer  in 
return  for  the  privilege  of  sleeping  under  the  rug. 

"  Sorry  to  shunt  you,  old  chap,"  he  apologised  aloud. 
"But  you're  a  deal  better  off  down  there  than  I  am." 

Sundry  tappings  on  his  left  foot  signified  grateful 
acknowledgment  of  the  fact,  as  Brutus  settled  himself 
afresh  and  dropped  back  into  the  land  of  dreams,  whither 
Lenox  would  gladly  have  followed  him.  For  the  week 
had  been  a  hard  one,  and  he  was  very  tired.  The  frost 
seemed  to  have  gripped  both  body  and  brain,  and  too  long 
a  spell  of  mountaineering  at  high  altitudes  was  beginning 
to  tell  upon  his  strength ;  so  that  he  had  been  thankful 
for  the  flat  expanses  of  the  Pamirs,  which  had  made 
riding  possible  and  pleasant  once  again. 

His  entrance  into  the  brigand  state,  and  his  polite,  but 
unequivocal  ultimatum  to  its  insubordinate  chief  had 
been  carried  through,  not  without  moments  of  uncertainty 
and  danger,  yet  with  complete  success,  and  throughout 
the  past  six  weeks  he  had  been  enjoying  his  first  big  tour 
of  that  strange  region  of  raised  valleys  and  vast,  wind- 
swept spaces  where  the  boundary  lines  of  three  Empires 
meet. 

Since  the  night  when  he  had  flung  away  the  cherished 
pill-box  that  now  lay  regally  entombed  under  fifty  feet 
of  snow,  he  had  suffered  no  collapse.  His  gradual  method 
of  unwinding  the  chain  had  averted  that  final  danger  and 
degradation.  But  there  had  been  days  when  all  his  train- 
ing in  self-discipline  had  been  needed  to  restrain  him 
from  applying  to  Zyarulla,  whose  kummerbund  held  a 
perennial  store  of  the  precious  drug, — the  more  so  since 
his  Ladaki  'cook'  —  chosen  mainly  for  his  powers  of 
endurance — knew  rather  less  about  the  primitive  require- 
ments of  camp  catering  than  Lenox  himself ;  and  in  spite 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  375 

of  keen  air  and  exercise  his  appetite  had  steadily  fallen 
away.  There  were  rare  days,  of  course,  when  he  could 
have  eaten  camel's  flesh,  and  that  gratefully ;  but  there 
were  many  more  when  the  mere  man  yearned  towards 
the  luxury  of  plate  and  silver,  of  varied  meats,  and  the 
sparkle  of  an  iced  peg.  To-night  his  '  dinner '  consisted 
of  a  large  cup  of  cocoa,  some  native  biscuits,  and  a  lump 
of  milk-cheese  made  by  the  Khirgiz,  whose  domed  huts 
and  scattered  flocks  are  the  only  signs  of  human  life  in 
this  dry  region  of  snow  and  sun  and  tireless  wind. 

On  the  table  at  his  elbow,  besides  the  steaming  cocoa, 
were  two  camp  candlesticks,  some  closely  written  sheets 
of  a  letter  to  Quita,  and  her  last  that  had  reached  him 
outside  Hunza  five  weeks  ago.  Each  one  he  had  received 
showed  more  clearly  how  the  mysterious  influence  of 
absence  was  winning  for  him  that  volatile  essence  of  her 
which  had  eluded  his  grasp  throughout  six  months  of 
personal  contact,  and  years  of  unwearied  devotion.  Of 
the  deeper,  hidden  forces  at  work  on  his  behalf,  he  guessed 
nothing.  Only  he  was  aware  of  subtle  changes  taking 
place  in  her — of  an  indefinable  softening  and  uplifting  of 
the  whole  woman,  that  increased  tenfold  his  longing  for 
a  reunion  which  promised  to  be  closer,  more  consummate 
than  the  best  that  they  had  achieved  as  yet. 

But  to-night,  because  body  and  spirit  were  flagging 
unawares,  the  miles  upon  miles  of  inhospitable  mountain 
country,  that  must  be  traversed  before  he  could  regain 
the  outposts  of  civilised  life,  overpowered  his  imagination. 
To-night,  for  the  first  time,  despondency  and  the  ache  of 
desire  magnified  the  very  real  dangers  ahead — the  late- 
ness of  the  season,  the  uncertainty  of  weather  and  sup- 
plies. Difficulties  in  respect  of  transport  had  obliged 
him  to  cut  down  his  commissariat,  despatching  the  re- 
mainder, with  his  heavy  baggage,  to  await  him  on  the 
Indian  side  of  the  Darkot  Pass — the  last  great  obstacle 
that  cut  him  off  from  India,  and  from  the  dear  woman, 
never  dearer  than  at  this  moment.  It  was  a  risk,  of 
course,  and  a  big  one.  But  mountaineering  implies 
risks;  and  the  man  who  is  not  prepared  to  face  them, 
and  sleep  soundly  on  them,  had  better  stick  to  his  arm- 
chair and  an  office. 


376  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

The  original  risk  had  been  increased  by  the  fact  that 
his  programme  of  exploration  had  taken  longer  than  he 
calculated,  and  now  ominous  snow -clouds,  a  rapidly 
dwindling  food  supply,  and  his  own  importunate  heart, 
urged  an  immediate  start  for  the  terrible  Wakhan  Valley 
and  the  Darkot  Pass.  It  meant  a  race  for  life — that  he 
saw  plainly  enough.  The  chances  were  ten  to  one  against 
the  Pass  being  open  after  the  1st  of  October — the  earliest 
date  by  which  he  could  hope  to  get  across. 

With  a  sigh,  he  closed  his  diaries,  emptied  the  cup  of 
cocoa  at  a  gulp,  and  took  out  of  his  breast-pocket  a  folded 
leather  frame.  It  contained  a  photo  of  Quita  in  evening 
dress — a  photo  so  disturbingly  alive  that  in  general  he 
contented  himself  with  the  knowledge  that  it  was  there. 
But  now  he  sat  looking  at  it  long  and  intently,  till  the 
eyes  seemed  to  soften  and  speech  hovered  on  the  too- 
expressive  lips.  Almost  the  music  of  her  voice  was  in 
his  ears,  when  the  night's  colossal  stillness  was  broken  by 
voices  of  a  very  different  quality — the  deep  tones  of  the 
two  Pathans  and  the  interpreter,  who,  on  this  lightly- 
equipped  expedition,  were  sharing  his  tent ;  while  the  six 
little  Gurkhas,  packed  like  sardines  into  a  smaller  one, 
seemed  to  find  the  experience  as  amusing  as  they  found 
the  whole  varied  field  of  life.  It  takes  more  than  mere 
hardship  to  knock  the  spirits  out  of  a  Gurkha. 

As  the  three  men  entered,  Lenox  slipped  the  frame 
back  into  his  pocket;  and,  with  a  few  friendly  words, 
gave  them  leave  to  retire  into  their  sleeping  bags,  while 
Zyarulla  laid  out  his  master's  'bed'  on  the  farther  side 
of  the  fire.  That  done,  he  came  forward,  and,  squatting  on 
his  heels,  held  out  fingers  like  knotted  twigs  to  the  blaze. 
Lenox,  under  a  pretence  of  reading,  sat  watching  him 
spellbound,  knowing  precisely  what  would  happen  next. 
Nor  was  he  mistaken.  Presently  the  thawed  fingers 
fumbled  at  his  kummerbund,  produced  a  discoloured  twist 
of  paper,  opened  it,  and  taking  out  two  familiar  dark 
pellets,  tossed  them  down  his  throat.  In  the  act  he  met 
his  master's  gaze  fixed  on  him  with  strange  intensity,  and 
at  once  two  more  pellets  appeared  upon  his  palm. 

"  Will  not  the  Sahib  honour  his  servant  by  partaking 
also  ? "  he  asked,  proffering  his  treasure.  "  The  cold 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  37*7 

increaseth  every  hour,  and  the  Heaven-born  hath  had  too 
little  food  to-day." 

It  was  a  moment  before  Lenox  could  find  his  voice ;  not 
because  temptation  mastered  him,  but  because  he  could 
scarcely  believe  the  evidence  of  his  brain.  The  sight  of 
the  forbidden  thing  within  easy  reach  no  longer  tormented 
him  as  it  would  have  done  two  months  ago.  The  habit 
of  resistance  was  beginning  to  take  effect  at  last;  and, 
almost  before  Zyarulla  had  time  to  wonder  at  his  silence, 
Lenox  had  waved  aside  his  open  palm. 

"  No,  no,"  he  said  quietly.  "  I  have  eaten  enough,  and 
thou  wilt  need  all  and  more  before  we  set  foot  in  a  bazaar 
again.  Opium  is  not  for  Sahibs.  For  the  Pathan  people, 
who  are  made  of  wood  and  iron,  it  may  be  very  well ;  but 
for  the  white  man  it  is  poison." 

The  Asiatic  shook  his  head,  and  a  light  gleamed  under 
his  grizzled  brows. 

"  Great  is  the  wisdom  of  the  Sahib ;  yet  in  this  matter 
have  I  also  some  knowledge.  The  Dream  Compeller  is  no 
poison,  Haziir,  but  Allah's  bountiful  gift  to  man,  bringing 
strength  out  of  weakness,  peace  out  of  turmoil,  even  as 
the  rain  draweth  grass  from  parched  earth.  Nevertheless, 
it  is  as  your  Honour  wills." 

And  Lenox,  still  watching  the  man's  movements  with 
a  strange  mingling  of  indifference  and  triumph,  saw  the 
miracle-worker — of  whose  powers  he  knew  far  more  than 
the  Pathan — disappear  unhindered  into  the  folds  of  the 
man's  kummerbund ;  saw  himself  once  more  a  free  man, 
— captain  of  the  soul  and  body  given  into  his  charge. 

"Now  it  is  time  to  sleep,"  he  said,  pushing  back  his 
chair,  and  rising  so  abruptly  that  Brutus  stumbled  on  to 
his  feet,  and  emerged  from  the  folds  of  the  rug  with  an 
injured  air.  "All  things  are  in  readiness  for  setting 
out?" 

"  Haziir,  all  things  are  in  readiness." 

"  It  is  well.  Scatter  ashes  on  the  fire,  and  call  me  at 
dawn." 

And  as  he  slipped  into  the  sheep-skin  bag,  his  whole 
heart  echoed  the  words,  "  It  is  well."  Let  him  only  win 
his  way  back  to  the  wife  whose  spirit  called  to  him  across 
the  silence  and  the  miles,  and  all  would  be  well  indeed ! 


378  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

Ten  minutes  later,  the  candles  were  put  out ;  the  glow 
of  the  fire  quenched ;  while  outside  the  temperature  fell 
steadily,  and  a  sky  heavy  with  threatening  cloud  brooded 
over  the  sleeping  camp. 

Lenox  woke  before  dawn  to  find  a  creditable  snow-peak 
piled  above  his  dead  fire,  while  flakes  as  large  as  plucked 
feathers  whirled  and  fluttered  down  upon  it  through  the 
generous  hole  in  the  roof.  The  three  natives  had  vanished, 
sleeping  bags  and  all;  and  the  Ladaki  cook,  with  the 
astounding  patience  of  his  kind,  had  coaxed  into  life  a  fire 
large  enough  to  make  his  master  a  cup  of  tea  from  the 
few  remaining  spoonfuls  of  the  magic  leaf,  more  priceless 
to  the  mountaineer  than  brandy. 

It  was  a  bad  beginning.  Even  the  Gurkhas  looked 
grave,  and  shook  their  heads.  The  sky,  low  and  heavy 
with  tumbled  cloud,  was  a  study  in  greys  and  indigoes ; 
the  earth  a  still,  uncharted  waste.  No  whisper  of  wind 
or  trees ;  no  sound  of  life ;  no  break  of  colour  anywhere, 
from  the  level  plain  to  the  galaxy  of  peaks  and  rounded 
shoulders  tossed  aloft  like  a  frozen  tempest.  Only  at 
intervals,  far  up  the  mountain-sides,  black  specks — that 
were  grazing  yaks  —  suggested  a  Khirgiz  encampment 
cunningly  hidden  in  the  folds  of  the  hills.  Presumably 
the  sun  was  up,  though  the  east  showed  as  lifeless  and 
unpromising  as  any  other  quarter  of  the  heavens. 

A  detailed  investigation  of  the  commissariat  department 
— revealing  a  serious  shortage  of  tea,  cocoa,  and  rice,  to  say 
nothing  of  minor  essentials — proved  no  less  discouraging 
than  the  aspect  of  earth  and  sky.  Only  by  the  most 
stringent  economy  could  the  little  store  be  persuaded  to 
last  out  four  days,  by  which  time  they  hoped  to  be  over 
the  pass.  Lenox,  as  usual,  blamed  himself. 

"  Extra  work  on  siege  rations  is  about  our  programme ! " 
he  remarked  with  grim  humour  to  his  devoted  ally  the 
little  Havildar.  "We  must  manage  the  first  three  marches 
in  two  days  if  possible.  But  I'm  sorry  to  have  let  you  all 
in  for  a  risk  of  this  kind." 

"  All  right,  Sahib,"  the  Gurkha  answered  with  a  brisk 
salute.  "We  be  Frontier  soldiers.  It  is  not  the  first 
time.  And  'when  sparrows  have  picked  up  the  grain 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  379 

where  is  the  use  of  regret  ? '  If  there  be  enough  for  your 
Honour  all  is  well.  The  black  man  can  tighten  his  belt, 
and  forget  that  the  stomach  is  empty ! "  He  tightened  his 
own  on  the  spot ;  and  went  off  to  bid  his  brothers  do  like- 
wise on  pain  of  dire  penalties. 

Stepping  down,  undismayed,  from  the  voiceless,  trackless 
Eoof  of  the  World,  they  were  met  by  a  desolating  wind ; 
the  feathered  snow-flakes  changed  to  a  storm  of  sleet, — 
stinging,  saturating ;  and  only  the  knowledge  that  twenty- 
four  hours  delay  might  mean  a  blocked  pass  and  another 
six  months  of  isolation  from  his  kind,  induced  Lenox  to 
urge  his  men  forward  in  the  teeth  of  it. 

As  it  was,  they  pushed  doggedly  on  over  snow-sodden 
tracks,  that  were  speedily  converted  into  drainage  rivulets  ; 
trailing  single  file  along  the  '  devil's  pathways '  that  over- 
hang the  Wakhan  river, — mere  ledges  cut  out  of  the  cliff's 
face,  where  a  false  step  means  dropping  a  hundred  feet 
and  more  into  the  valley  beneath;  scrambling  up  giant 
staircases  of  rock,  and  glacier  debris;  zigzagging  down 
one  or  two  thousand  feet,  by  the  merest  suggestion  of  a 
route,  only  to  start  a  fresh  climb — drenched  and  weary — 
after  floundering  through  a  local  torrent,  rushing  full 
'spate'  from  the  hills.  Such  crossings,  without  bridge 
or  boat,  through  streams  ice-cold  as  the  glaciers  that  gave 
them  birth,  formed  the  most  exciting  episodes  of  the  day's 
march.  They  had  at  least  the  merit  of  creating  a  diver- 
sion, if  a  damp  and  dangerous  one.  For  the  Kashmir 
baggage  ponies,  battling  helplessly  against  a  current  strong 
enough  to  sweep  them  off  their  feet,  could  only  be  guided 
and  controlled  by  showers  of  stones,  and  a  chorus  of  pic- 
turesque terms  of  abuse  from  their  distracted  drivers. 
The  Gurkhas,  whose  irrepressible  spirits  kept  the  rest 
from  flagging,  enjoyed  these  interludes  to  the  top  of  their 
bent ;  plunging  waist-deep  into  the  icy  water,  shaking 
themselves  like  terriers  as  they  scrambled  out  on  the  far 
side,  and  shouting  incessantly  to  each  other,  or  to  the 
terrified  animals,  till  the  cliffs  echoed  with  ghostly  voices 
and  laughter. 

Along  tracks  possible  and  impossible  Lenox  rode  his 
tireless  scrap  of  a  hill  pony,  who  climbed  like  a  goat,  and 
whose  unshod  feet  picked  their  way  unerringly  even  over 


380  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

rocks  covered  with  new  snow  that  gave  no  foothold  to 
man  or  beast.  The  rest  walked ;  while  the  baggage  ponies 
slid  and  stumbled,  and  scrambled  in  their  wake  with  the 
stupefied  meekness  of  their  kind. 

Journeying  thus, — now  drenched  with  snow  and  sleet, 
now  heartened  by  rare  bursts  of  sunshine, — through  the 
worst  bit  of  hill  country  between  Persia  and  China,  they 
camped  at  last  in  the  grim  Wakhan  valley,  rightly  named 
'  the  Valley  of  Humiliation.'  To  Lenox,  the  name  struck 
home  with  a  peculiar  force.  For  his  time-saving  scheme 
had  failed.  The  three  marches  had  not  been  accomplished 
in  two  days.  Evil  weather,  incessant  delays,  and  the  impos- 
sibility of  hurrying  baggage  animals  over  dangerous  ground, 
had  prevailed  against  him.  The  valley  had  conquered: 
and  for  the  man  remained  nothing  but  stoical  acceptance  of 
defeat,  and  the  '  half  of  a  broken  hope '  that  even  in  heaven 
and  earth's  despite,  he  might  yet  win  through  in  time. 

On  a  night  of  intermittent  moonbeams  and  racing 
cloud,  the  scene  from  the  little  camp  across  the  river  had 
a  sombre  majesty — a  suggestion  of  impersonal,  relentless 
power  that  crushes  rather  than  uplifts ;  that  dwarfs  man, 
with  his  puny  struggles  and  aspirations,  to  a  pin-point  of 
sand  on  an  illimitable  shore.  Colossal  ice-bound  spurs 
walled  them  in ;  their  sides  astonishingly  steep,  their 
embattled  heads  shattered  by  sun  and  frost  into  fantastic 
peaks,  from  which  masses  of  rock  and  stones  are  hurled 
down  into  the  valley,  when  rain  and  melting  snow  begin 
their  yearly  task  of  modelling  the  face  of  the  earth.  And 
between  these  threatening  heights  the  Wakhan  river 
hurried,  a  pale  streak  of  light,  now  grey,  now  silver,  as 
the  clouds,  like  great  birds  of  ill-omen,  chased  one  another 
across  the  moon. 

The  sinister  aspect  of  the  place  had  its  effect  on  Lenox, 
hypersensitised  as  he  was  by  anxiety  over  lost  hours,  and 
by  the  premonitory  chill  of  fever,  strengthening  that  pre- 
science of  disaster  which  saps  spirit  and  courage  more 
surely  than  disaster  itself.  But  they  were  on  the  march 
again  betimes,  next  morning,  breasting  the  northern 
slopes  of  the  Hindu  Kush,  which  at  this  point  can  be 
crossed  without  much  difficulty.  Before  noon  they  were 
over  the  crest ;  and  Lenox,  weary  at  last  of  his  nightmare 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  381 

straggle  with  the  mountains,  dropped  thankfully  into  the 
Yarkhun  valley,  beyond  which  towered  his  last  great 
obstacle — the  Dark6t  Pass. 

It  was  late  afternoon,  and,  come  what  might,  he  in- 
tended to  requisition  a  guide  (no  easy  matter)  and  push 
his  way  across  at  daylight.  But  neither  earth  nor  heaven 
had  a  word  of  encouragement  for  the  man  who  scanned 
them  with  tired,  desperate  eyes.  At  his  feet  the  Yarkhun 
river  whirled  and  foamed,  a  grey  glacier  torrent,  thick 
with  the  milky  scum  of  ice-ground  salt ;  beyond  it  the 
ink-black  gorge  leading  to  the  summit  was  shrouded  in  a 
scroll  of  threatening  cloud  j  and  the  first  natives  whom 
they  questioned  as  to  the  state  of  the  pass  replied  uncon- 
cernedly that  it  had  been  closed  four  days ;  adding  that 
no  man  who  valued  his  life  would  attempt  to  cross  it  in 
uncertain  weather. 

To  force  his  little  contingent  forward  in  the  face  of 
such  news  seemed  nothing  less  than  murder  and  suicide 
of  an  elevated  type.  But  Lenox,  gritting  his  teeth  on  a 
curse,  despatched  Zyarulla  in  search  of  more  precise  infor- 
mation, and  ordered  his  tent  to  be  set  up  without  delay. 
For  even  at  times  of  despondency  and  ill-health,  the  man 
possessed  his  full  share  of  that  '  out  ward -going  force' 
which  is  the  hall-mark  of  the  Scottish  race  ;  and  the 
instant  books  and  maps  were  available,  he  sat  down,  filled 
a  pipe  from  his  dwindling  store  of  tobacco,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  look  out  possible  alternatives  should  the  worst 
befall. 

There  were  two:  desperate  resources  both,  yet  one 
degree  better  than  imprisonment  in  the  Yarkhun  valley 
till  it  pleased  the  snows  to  melt.  They  could  follow  the 
course  of  the  river  to  Chitral, — no  Frontier  outpost  then, 
but  an  independent  Native  State  ;  or  work  their  way,  by 
faith  and  courage,  through  the  wild  Swat  country  to  the 
Punjab.  The  state  of  both  routes  was  unknown;  the 
question  of  supplies  a  hopeless  one ;  and  amid  a  chaos  of 
uncertainties,  bad  weather  was  the  one  thing  that  might 
safely  be  counted  on  in  October.  To  crown  all,  their  line 
of  communication  must,  in  either  case,  be  broken.  They 
would  be  lost  to  the  outside  world  for  many  days,  if  not 
weeks  ;  and  apart  from  consideration  for  his  wife,  Lenox 


382  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

was  the  last  man  to  enjoy  creating  a  temporary  excite- 
ment at  headquarters. 

None  the  less,  after  thinking  himself  into  a  blinding 
headache,  he  decided  to  face  the  Chitral  route,  if  snow 
fell,  and  if  Zyarulla  brought  no  better  news  about  the 
pass.  Then,  because  his  last  cup  of  tea  was  being  held 
in  reserve  for  breakfast,  he  contented  himself  with  goat's 
milk,  a  slab  of  chocolate,  and  native  biscuits  that  served 
him  for  bread. 

It  was  late  before  Zyarulla  returned,  with  a  companion, 
— a  native  from  Yasin,  on  the  Indian  side  of  the  Pass. 

"  This  man,  Sahib,  hath  even  now  crossed  over  from 
Darkot  village,"  the  Pathan  explained,  indicating  the 
wizened  leader  of  a  forlorn  hope  with  the  air  of  a  show- 
man exhibiting  a  curiosity.  "  He  came  to  fetch  the 
remains  of  his  sister,  who  died  in  this  valley,  that  she 
may  be  buried  among  her  own  people.  I  have  therefore 
engaged  him  as  guide,  to  take  the  Sahib  over  on  his 
return." 

"  The  thing  can  be  done  ? "  Lenox  asked,  with  an  eager- 
ness not  to  be  repressed ;  and  the  small  man  bowed  his 
head  upon  his  hands. 

"  Allah  alone  can  answer  the  question  of  the  Heaven- 
born.  For  one  man  to  travel  safely  among  glaciers  and 
crevasses  without  number,  it  was  no  easy  matter — and  as 
for  a  company  of  men  and  ponies,  how  can  this  slave 
tell  ?  Nevertheless,  if  the  Sahib  wills,  and  there  is  no 
snow  before  morning,  I  go  before,  showing  the  way ;  and 
that  which  will  fall— will  fall." 

"  Good.  That  is  a  bargain.  Fulfil  it,  and  thy  reward 
shall  be  worth  the  winning.  Let  yaks  be  ordered  from 
the  nearest  aul ;  and  at  daylight  we  set  out." 

The  man  from  Yasin  salaamed  and  departed ;  but  at 
the  tent  door  Zyarulla  paused,  a  glitter  of  triumph  in  his 
eyes. 

"  Captain  Sahib, — was  it  well  done  ? " 

"  Excellently  done,"  Lenox  answered,  smiling.  "  Thou 
art  worth  thy  weight  in  tobacco  of  the  first  quality ! " 

And  the  Pathan,  knowing  that  to  his  master  the  value 
of  tobacco  was  above  all  the  rupees  ever  minted,  went  out 
to  patronise  lesser  mortals,  and  impress  them  with  the 


THE   VALLEY   OP   DECISION.  383 

fact  that  he  was  not  as  other  men,  since  he  had  rendered 
signal  service  to  "  the  first-best  Sahib  in  all  India,  whose 
eyes  pierce  the  earth,  and  whose  feet  tread  upon  the 
necks  of  mountains  even  as  those  of  common  Sahibs 
scatter  the  dust  of  cities ! " 

That  night,  ominous  pains  in  his  limbs  and  a  sensation 
as  of  cold  water  down  his  spine  drove  Lenox  to  open  his 
second  and  last  bottle  of  brandy.  Stimulated  by  the 
kindly  spirit,  he  wrestled  with  a  fowl  tougher  than  india- 
rubber,  and  slept  as  a  doomed  man  might  sleep  on  the 
night  of  his  reprieve. 

But  he  woke  to  hear  the  tread  of  his  sentry  muffled  by 
new-fallen  snow ;  and  hope  died  in  him  at  the  sound. 
Outside,  the  world  was  white  with  it ;  the  whole  air  thick 
with  it ;  yet  his  men  were  striking  camp  and  loading  up, 
confident  in  the  white  man's  reputation  for  achieving  the 
impossible.  Only  the  little  guide  demurred,  trembling  at 
his  own  audacity. 

"  Hazur,  look  whether  the  thing  can  be  done.  I  said — 
if  no  snow  fell." 

"  And  /  say,  if  it  fall  or  no,  we  cross  to-day,"  Lenox 
answered,  with  more  of  assurance  than  he  felt.  "  Bid  the 
yaks  go  forward  to  prepare  a  way  for  our  coming." 

The  great  shaggy  beasts  went  forward  accordingly,  head 
downward,  ploughing  a  way  through  the  snow,  to  make 
marching  easier  and  disclose  hidden  pitfalls  or  crevasses ; 
and  by  the  time  Lenox  had  despatched  a  travesty  of  a 
breakfast,  a  pallid  light  in  the  east  hinted  that  the  storm 
might  be  local  after  all.  Wet  and  draggled  as  they  were, 
the  order  was  given  to  load  up  and  start ;  and  even  as 
they  crossed  the  torrent  to  the  foot  of  the  glacier,  earth 
and  sky  leaped  suddenly  into  light ;  broken  streaks  of 
radiance  danced  and  sparkled  on  the  river,  and  the  sun 
swept  the  shadows  from  hill  and  valley,  converting  their 
deathlike  shroud  into  a  glittering  garment,  stainless  as 
the  soul  of  a  child. 

"  Inshallah  !     Now  all  is  well ! " 

It  was  the  deep  voice  of  Yusuf  Ali ;  and  Lenox  heard 
his  cheery  little  friend,  the  Havildar,  make  answer,  "  True 
talk,  brother ;  the  gods  favour  those  who  go  forward ! " 

Cheered  by  the  prospect  of  getting  dry,  and  by  the 


384  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

sun's  mysterious  power  to  exhilarate  all  things  living,  the 
whole  party  quickened  their  pace.  But  in  less  than  an 
hour  fresh  clouds  had  rolled  up,  blotting  out  the  sun ; 
and  on  the  glacier  they  overtook  the  yaks  and  their 
drivers,  lumbering  soberly  through  the  snow-drifts  with 
true  Oriental  disregard  for  time. 

The  men  chorussed  voluble  excuses;  but  since  time 
meant  life  or  death,  Lenox  waved  them  aside  impatiently, 
and  ordered  the  guide  to  go  on,  making  his  own  tracks 
as  best  he  might.  The  which  he  did,  with  the  help  of 
two  others,  pressed  into  service  by  promises  of  liberal 
backsheesh;  stepping  out  valiantly  at  the  head  of  the 
mixed  procession ;  his  sister's  remains — tied  up  in  a  wisp 
of  turban — bobbing  over  his  shoulder ;  driving  on  before 
him  a  donkey  followed  by  a  goat.  And  the  unerring 
instinct  by  which  this  despised  creature  of  God  avoided 
hidden  fissures  and  crevasses  must  needs  be  seen  to  be 
believed. 

The  guides,  keeping  in  the  tracks  of  the  animals, 
marked  off  dangerous  places  with  their  sticks ;  and  behind 
them  rode  Lenox,  muffled  to  the  eyes  in  poshteen  and 
Balaklava  cap,  his  league  of  leg  barely  two  feet  off  the 
ground;  his  keen  little  pony  —  long  since  christened 
'  The  Eat ' — almost  as  trustworthy  on  dangerous  ground 
as  the  donkey  himself.  And  wherever  he  led,  all  self- 
respecting  Kashmiri  ponies  would  follow, — even  into  a 
crevasse ! 

Through  four  mortal  hours  they  plodded  on,  a  strange 
procession  of  muffled  figures,  leaving  in  their  wake  a  dark, 
contorted  track,  as  though  some  wounded  thing  had 
writhed  its  way  upward  through  the  frozen  snow. 

And  by  one  o'clock  the  crest  was  in  sight !  "  The  gods 
favour  those  who  go  forward ! "  Chundra  Sen  had  spoken 
truth.  Another  half  hour  would  see  them  through  the 
worst;  and  Lenox — scarcely  able  to  believe  in  his  good 
fortune — urged  The  Eat  to  renewed  exertion,  and  shouted 
to  his  men  to  hurry  on. 

But  the  gods  are  nothing  if  not  capricious ;  and  the 
'  advanced  guard,'  reaching  the  summit,  found  no  prom- 
ised land  spread  out  below  them,  but  a  mass  of  blue-black 
cloud,  heavy  with  snow,  surging  up  the  valley,  with  the 


THE    VALLEY    OF    DECISION.  385 

rush  of  a  tidal  wave  and  the  breath  of  an  iceberg,  blotting 
out  creation  as  it  came ;  till  it  shrouded  the  little  band  of 
men — '  unconquering,  yet  unconquered' — in  a  sinister 
twilight,  cold  as  Death's  own  self. 

There  was  nothing  to  be  said  or  done.  They  simply 
stood  still,  and  waited  for  the  end : — the  Asiatics  with 
the  phlegm  of  fatalism;  Lenox  with  the  stillness  of 
despair. 

"  Checkmate,"  he  muttered  grimly.  "  Two  hours  of  this 
will  about  finish  us  off." 

In  two  seconds  his  moustache  was  frozen  to  his  face ; 
his  limbs  numbed,  so  that  movement  became  imperative. 
Mechanically  he  dismounted,  stamped  his  feet,  and  beat 
his  arms  across  his  chest  as  the  others  were  doing;  a 
proceeding  about  as  effective  as  thimblefuls  of  water  flung 
on  a  fire.  For  every  moment  the  iron  clutch  of  frost 
tightened  and  penetrated;  even,  it  seemed,  to  the  life- 
blood  in  his  veins.  But  through  its  deadening  influence 
the  thought  of  Quita  struck  like  a  knife-thrust.  "God 
help  her ! "  his  heart  cried  out  in  bitter  rebellion  against 
his  own  helplessness  to  shield  her  from  pain.  "It  will 
hit  her  hard.  But  she  has  grit ; — and  her  art.  She  will 
live  it  down." 

For  five  awful  minutes  the  darkness  held ;  and  the  men 
waited ; — free  yet  helpless,  like  castaways  on  an  open  sea. 
Yet  no  snow  fell. 

Suddenly  Lenox  was  aware  of  Brutus  rubbing  against 
his  leg,  plainly  demanding  what  was  wrong.  He  stooped 
and  caressed  the  ugly  head  of  his  eight  years'  companion 
and  friend.  "  Eough  luck  on  you,  old  chap.  You  never 
asked  to  come." 

For  answer  Brutus  licked  his  woollen  glove.  And  as 
he  straightened  himself,  Chundra  Sen  came  up  and  saluted. 

"  Captain  Sahib,  it  is  strange.  No  snow  falls  ;  and  the 
darkness  moves — moves.  May  be  it  is  not  the  storm 
itself;  but  a  cloud  that  will  pass." 

"  I  doubt  it,  Havildar,"  Lenox  answered,  smiling  at  the 
characteristic  suggestion.  Yet  his  eyes,  half- blinded  with 
snow-glare,  peered  anxiously  southward,  and  detected  a 
change  ;  a  faint  hint  of  transparency,  as  though  light 
were  struggling  through. 

2B 


386  THE    GREAT    AMULET. 

The  Gurkha  detected  it  also. 

"Hazur,  behold! — The  cloud  will  pass."  His  teeth 
flashed  out  exultant.  "  A  good  tale  is  not  to  be  bought 
with  cowries ;  and  we  shall  tell  this  one  in  India  before 
many  weeks  be  out." 

Chundra  Sen  was  right.  With  astonishing  swiftness 
the  twilight  paled  from  grey  to  white  ;  a  streak  of  spectral 
sunlight  quivered  through,  like  life  creeping  back  into  the 
face  of  death ;  and  the  cloud  rolled  harmlessly  over  into 
the  Yarkhun  valley  behind  them. 

It  was  but  a  herald  of  the  great  battalion  that  billowed 
up  an  hour  later,  enveloping  glacier,  peak,  and  crag,  and 
sealing  up  the  pass  for  seven  months  to  come. 

But  by  then,  they  were  clattering  recklessly  down  the 
slope,  helter-skelter,  like  a  pack  of  children  let  out  of 
school ;  slithering  over  fissured  glacier  and  moraine,  send- 
ing loose  boulders  flying  from  rock  to  rock ;  the  Gurkhas 
shouting  and  laughing,  the  Kashmiri  coolies  breaking  into 
weird  snatches  of  song.  Even  The  Eat  lost  his  sober 
little  head,  and  in  scuttling  over  a  glacier  slope  sat 
suddenly  down  upon  his  tail,  dog  fashion,  landing  Lenox 
on  his  feet,  and  sliding  away  from  under  him,  to  the 
vociferous  delight  of  every  one  but  himself.  Only  the 
two  Pathans  and  the  Scot  accepted  reprieve  as  imperturb- 
ably  as  they  had  accepted  sentence  of  death ;  suggesting 
by  their  silence,  in  the  midst  of  excitement,  the  large 
reserves  of  strength  common  to  the  natures  of  both. 

Before  five  they  had  sighted  the  willows  and  poplars  of 
Darkot ;  and  by  sunset  they  were  encamped  outside  the 
village,  walled  in  with  a  rugged  amphitheatre  of  granite 
and  limestone  cliffs.  Here  they  found  the  man  in  charge 
of  the  welcome  caravan  of  supplies  and  heavy  baggage, 
taking  his  ease,  a  little  puzzled,  yet  in  no  wise  troubled  at 
the  Sahib's  delay. 

Lenox,  broken  with  fatigue,  relief,  and  incipient  illness, 
realised,  as  he  sank  into  his  camp  chair,  that  throughout 
the  past  week  he  had  kept  himself  going  by  pure  force  of 
will.  And  his  record  was  a  fair  one,  even  as  Frontier 
records  go : — incessant  marching  in  wet  clothes,  on  a 
minimum  of  food,  culminating  in  ten  hours  of  severe 
exposure  and  the  acutest  anxiety  he  had  ever  known. 


THE    VALLEY    OF    DECISION.  387 

And  over  and  above  all  such  incidentals  of  the  day's 
work, — achievement,  in  full  measure,  of  that  which  he 
had  set  out  to  do ;  not  merely  in  respect  of  his  mission, 
but  in  respect  of  that  hidden  struggle  and  victory, '  that 
weighed  not  as  his  work,  yet  swelled  the  man's  amount.' 
For  he  knew  now  that  by  the  God-given  power  of  sheer, 
unwearied  resistance  he  had  vanquished  an  evil  the  most 
insidious  and  alluring  that  can  assail  a  man ;  knew  that 
he  had  put  the  accursed  thing  under  his  feet ;  and  he 
meant  to  keep  it  there. 

But  the  struggle,  combined  with  hardship  and  privation, 
had  left  its  mark  on  him.  The  protests  of  Nature  had 
been  disregarded ;  and  now  she  took  her  revenge  in  the 
sledge-hammer  fashion  that  is  hers. 

By  next  morning  the  man's  skin  was  like  hot  parchment, 
his  limbs  rigid  with  pain,  his  brain  verging  on  delirium  ; 
and  before  evening  it  was  clear  that  rheumatic  fever  had 
him  in  its  relentless  grip. 

The  Gurkhas  and  Zyarulla  were  in  despair.  Chundra 
Sen,  goaded  by  responsibility  for  the  safety  of  his  officer, 
set  out,  straightway,  by  double  marches  for  Srinagar, 
determined  to  cover  the  distance  in  ten  days ;  while  the 
Pathan,  commanding  a  charpoy l  from  the  headman  of  the 
village,  remained  to  exorcise  the  '  fever  devil '  with  the 
rude  skill  and  limitless  patience  of  his  kind. 

But  he  reaped  small  reward  for  his  pains.  Backed 
with  rheumatism  and  burnt  up  with  fever,  Lenox  had 
almost  reached  the  end  of  his  tether ;  and  through  the 
awful  hours  of  delirium,  Zyarulla  could  only  crouch,  help- 
less, by  the  bedside ;  listening,  listening  to  the  hoarse, 
hurried  mutterings,  of  which  he  could  understand  nothing 
beyond  the  frequent  recurrence  of  the  Mem-sahib's  name. 

Each  day  life  flickered  more  uncertainly  in  the  great 
gaunt  frame  ;  and  on  the  morning  when  Chundra  Sen, 
with  a  dapper  little  doctor,  set  his  face  towards  Darkot, 
Zyarulla,  kneeling  beside  his  unheeding  master,  bowed  his 
head  upon  his  hands. 

"  It  is  the  will  of  God,"  he  muttered.  But  the  formula 
carried  no  conviction  to  his  heart,  that  whispered  rather : 
"  It  is  the  work  of  Sheitan,  the  accursed." 

1  String-bed. 


388  THE    GREAT   AMULET. 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

"  Why  was  the  pause  prolonged,  but  that  singing  should  issue  thence  ? 
Why  rushed  the  discords  in,  but  that  harmony  should  be  prized  ? " 

— BROWNING. 

QUITA  LENOX  lay  back  in  a  long  low  chair,  lost  in  thought, 
her  hands  clasped  behind  her  head,  the  folds  of  her  dull- 
blue  tea-gown  trailing  on  the  carpet.  A  cushion  of  darker 
blue  threw  into  stronger  relief  the  brighter  tints  of  her 
hair ;  and  ,:at  her  throat  three  rough  lumps  of  Tibetan 
turquoise — recently  sent  by  Lenox — hung  on  a  fine  gold 
chain.  His  last  letter,  full  of  the  discovery  of  his  Pass, 
lay  open  on  her  knee, — read  and  re-read  till  its  contents 
were  stamped  upon  her  brain ;  and  it  seemed  to  her  high 
time  that  a  fresh  one  came  to  take  its  place.  But  the 
days  slipped  by — uneventful  days,  in  which  the  long  chair 
played  a  definite  part — and  no  envelope  in  his  hand- 
writing came  to  cheer  her. 

Yet  she  was  far  removed  from  unhappiness.  Her  in- 
creasing pride  in  him,  and  in  his  achievement,  prevented 
that.  Only  there  were  moments  when  the  inner  vision 
was  too  vivid ;  moments  between  sleep  and  waking  when 
pictures  trooped  unbidden  through  the  corridors  of  her 
brain ;  when  neither  sleep  nor  effort  of  will  could  shield 
her  from  that  awful  visualisation  of  the  dreaded  thing, 
which  is  the  artist's  penalty  in  the  day  of  trouble.  At 
such  times,  the  fear  that  he  might  slip  out  of  her  life 
without  knowledge  of  the  great  fact,  that  no  amount  of 
repetition  can  minimise,  nor  custom  stale  ;  without  know- 
ledge that  through  his  long  love  and  constancy  she  had 
attained  to  the  '  greatest  creative  art  of  all,'  had  almost 
dragged  her  out  of  bed  at  midnight  to  begin  the  letter 
that  should  carry  the  word  to  him  amid  the  sublimity  of 
his  glaciers  and  eternal  silences.  But  always  something 
stronger  than  fear  had  restrained  her ;  so  that  the  weeks 
had  dropped  away  one  by  one,  like  faded  petals,  and  the 
secret  that  was  to  be  the  crowning  glory  of  their  new  life 
together  still  lay  hidden  in  her  heart. 

The  cheerful  round  of  festivities  common  to  an  Indian 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  389 

Hill  season  had  passed  her  by ;  and  she  was  content  to 
have  it  so.  Between  her  canvas  and  her  unpractised 
needle,  between  the  companionship  of  Michael,  and  of  the 
Desmonds  —  while  they  were  'up' — her  days  had  gone 
softly,  yet  pleasantly  and  profitably  in  more  respects  than 
one.  For  it  is  in  the  pauses  between  times  of  activity  and 
stress  that  the  still  small  voice  of  God  speaks  most  clearly 
to  the  soul ;  that  power  is  generated  and  garnered  against 
the  hidden  things  that  shall  be.  It  is  in  the  pauses  that 
we  can,  as  it  were,  stand  back  a  space  from  our  own  corner 
of  the  picture  we  are  so  zealously  making  or  marring,  and 
catch  an  illuminating  glimpse  of  the  proportions  of  the 
whole. 

Thus  it  had  been  with  Quita  Lenox.  In  these  four 
months  of  seeming  inactivity,  the  large,  underlying  forces 
of  life  had  been  silently  at  work  in  her,  touching  the  im- 
pressionable spirit  of  her  to  '  fine  issues '  that  the  sure 
years  would  reveal.  Nor  had  her  time  of  quiet  been 
lacking  in  immediate  results.  A  completed  picture  stood 
to  her  credit;  and  a  drawer  full  of  surprising  achieve- 
ments in  the  way  of  needlecraft ;  achievements  so  patheti- 
cally small  that  at  times  the  sight  of  them  brought  tears 
to  her  eyes. 

But  this  afternoon  neither  brush  nor  needle  tempted 
her.  In  spirit  she  was  with  her  husband,  trying  by  con- 
centration of  thought  to  bridge  the  space  between.  But 
always  her  thoughts  ended  in  one  cry :  If  only — if  only 
— he  could  get  back  in  time ! 

Michael  Maurice  had  stayed  on  at  the  Crow's  Nest, 
possibly  from  laziness,  possibly  for  other  reasons ;  and  its 
little  studio-drawing-room  was  as  attractive,  as  untidy, 
and  as  eloquent  of  Quita's  personality  as  it  had  been  six- 
teen months  ago.  It  was  late  August  now ;  and  a  week's 
break  in  the  rains  had  given  the  drenched  hills  and  those 
who  dwelt  upon  them  a  foretaste  of  that  elixir  of  light  and 
air  which  makes  September  the  crowning  month  of  the 
Himalayan  year.  And  to  Quita  it  gave  promise  that  her 
days  of  waiting  were  numbered.  In  a  week  she  would 
follow  the  Desmonds  to  Dera  Ishmael,  and  remain  with 
them,  at  their  urgent  invitation,  till  her  husband's  return. 
The  friendly  smile  of  the  sun  after  days  of  downpour 


390  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

and  restless  mist  lifted  her  to  renewed  hope  that  in 
spite  of  the  mountains  he  would  surely  reach  her  in 
time. 

From  the  open  door  a  stream  of  afternoon  light  barred 
the  room  with  gold.  Passing  across  her  prostrate  figure, 
it  fell  full  upon  her  easel,  and  upon  the  picture  in  which 
she  had  tried  to  express  her  own  solution  of  the  artist's 
eternal  problem — Art  or  Love.  It  had  been  begun  as  a 
subject-picture,  inspired  by  the  impassioned  cry  of  Aurora 
Leigh :  "  Oh,  Art,  my  Art !  Thou  art  much ;  but  Love  is 
more ! "  Then  because  her  taste  leaned  always  to  the 
actual,  and  because  the  picture  was  to  be  a  present  for  her 
husband,  the  woman's  figure  had  grown  into  a  portrait  of 
herself ;  a  thing  so  living,  so  eloquent  of  her  new  appeal- 
ing charm,  that  even  Michael's  critical  spirit  had  been 
roused  to  enthusiasm.  He  had  one  quarrel  only  with  her 
achievement,  namely,  that  it  was  not  to  be  his  own ! 

In  detail,  the  picture  was  simplicity  itself.  Merely  the 
woman  beside  her  easel,  turning  eagerly  away  from  it  as 
if  at  the  sound  of  a  footstep  ;  every  line  and  curve  of  her 
athrill  with  expectancy,  her  eyes  luminous  with  the  dawn 
of  a  new  truth,  a  new  ecstasy  of  heart  and  spirit ;  while 
at  her  feet  her  palette  lay  broken  in  a  dozen  pieces,  and 
her  canvas  had  fallen,  unheeded,  to  the  ground.  An  open 
doorway  behind  her  revealed  a  glimpse  of  sunlit  ver- 
andah, trellis -work  and  honeysuckle;  revealed  also  an 
unmistakable  length  of  shadow, — the  head  and  shoulders 
of  the  man  whose  large,  lonely  personality  had  so  taken 
possession  of  her,  as  to  transform  her  whole  vision  of  life. 
And  below  the  canvas,  on  the  gilding  of  the  frame,  were 
graven  the  words :  '  Love  is  more.' 

For  all  her  delight  in  this  last  work  of  her  hands,  there 
were  days  when  the  sight  of  it  pricked  her  to  an  anguish 
of  impatience,  shadowed  always  by  the  darker  anguish  of 
fear  lest  the  ecstasy  she  had  so  vividly  portrayed  should 
be  snatched  untasted  from  out  her  grasp ;  lest  the  footstep 
her  heart  hungered  for  should  never  come  back  into  her 
life.  But  she  fought  resolutely  against  such  black  moods, 
for  Michael's  sake  no  less  than  her  own.  His  joy  in 
getting  her  back  had  done  much  to  soften  the  pang  of 
separation ;  and  now,  while  she  lay  waiting  and  dreaming, 


THE    VALLEY    OP   DECISION.  391 

— too  lazy  to  pour  out  tea  till  he  came — it  was  his  footstep 
that  put  her  dreams  to  flight. 

He  had  been  out  on  the  Kajiar  road  '  taking  notes/  and 
he  flourished  a  sketch-book  at  her  by  way  of  greeting. 

"  Tea,  che'rie  ?    Ah,  c'est  bien.     I  am  thirsty  ! " 

She  flung  out  her  left  hand  and  took  possession  of  the 
book. 

"  Pour  it  out  yourself,  there's  a  dear ;  and  mine  too." 

"  Voild,  done  !    What  laziness !  " 

"  Energetic  people  are  privileged  to  be  lazy — some- 
times." 

He  laughed,  and  obeyed  her,  setting  a  cup  and  plate 
within  reach. 

"  You  seem  to  have  been  making  the  most  of  your 
privilege.  Have  you  done  anything  while  I  was  out  ? " 

"  But  yes.  I  have  been  possessing  my  soul  in  quiet- 
ness; and — I  have  been  talking  to  Eldred." 

He  passed  a  caressing  hand  over  her  hair. 

"  Pauvre  petite !  How  much  of  that  do  you  really 
believe  ? " 

"  Don't  ask  uncomfortable  questions !  At  least  it  helps 
a  little  when  I  feel  I  can't  wait  any  longer,  and — I  am 
almost  sure  it  helps  him  too.  I  shall  find  that  out  when 
— if  he  gets  back." 

"  Let  '  ifs '  alone,  ma  belle.  They  are  gadflies  of  the 
devil's  breeding.  That  great  Scotchman  of  yours  would 
work  his  way  back  to  you,  if  he  had  to  go  through  hell  to 
do  it.  Moi,  je  le  sais" 

She  flushed  softly;  and  her  eyes  looked  beyond  his 
through  the  open  doorway,  rapt  and  shining. 

"  You  do  believe  in  him  now,  Michel,"  she  said.  "  And 
you  forgive  him  ?  He  has  made  me  so  supremely  happy." 

Michael  shook  his  head. 

"  Was  I  ever  an  altruist,  petite  so&ur  ?  If  the  man  had 
not  made  you  happy,  I  should  never  have  rested  till  I  had 
you  back  again.  As  it  is — "  he  shrugged  his  shoulders 
with  an  expressive  turn  of  the  hands — "one  is  glad — 
for  your  sake;  and  one  makes  the  best  of  an  empty 
house.  But,  mon  Dieu  !  it  is  empty  without  you,  Quita  ! 
You  have  light  and  fire  in  you ; — now,  more  than  ever. 
You  have  temperament.  You  inspire  a  man.  Your 


392  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

absence  actually  affects  the  quality  of  my  work.  Absurd ; 
but  true !  And  as  for  my  affairs  —  nom  de  Dieu,  the 
money  slips  away  like  water,  but  the  bills  never  get  paid ! 
You  saw  how  it  was  when  you  came.  And  in  one  little 
week  you  go  again,  with  a  light  heart;  while  I  return, 
faute  de  mieux,  to  my  '  wallowing  in  the  mire ! ' ' 

" Mon  pauvre  Michel!"  she  said  softly.  "What  a 
tragedy !  You  make  me  wish  I  was  twins  ! " 

But  a  smile  gleamed  through  her  tenderness  ;  for,  while 
she  loved  him  dearly,  she  knew  every  turn  and  phase  of 
his  character;  knew  that  the  picture  of  desolation,  so 
feelingly  drawn,  was  seen  for  the  moment  through  the 
magnifying  lens  of  self-pity.  Yet  her  concern  for  him 
was  genuine,  deep-rooted,  a  habit  dating  from  the  days  of 
pinafores  and  broken  toys.  To  keep  Michael  happy  had, 
for  long,  been  the  chief  part  of  her  religion :  the  least  of 
his  troubles,  real  or  imaginary,  still  had  the  ancient 
entry  to  her  heart ;  and  now  she  leaned  impulsively  to- 
wards him,  elbows  on  knees,  her  chin  in  her  hands, 
her  eyes  resting  in  his. 

"  It  is  not  true  that  I  leave  you  lightly,  mon  cher ;  nor 
that  I  love  you  less  because  I  have  given  myself  to 
another — body  and  soul.  Indeed,  I  think  the  very  big- 
ness of  my  feeling  for  him  has  made  love  go  deeper  with 
me  in  all  directions,  has  opened  my  eyes  to  see  that  to 
love  means  no  less  than  changing  the  axis  on  which  one's 
whole  nature  revolves.  There's  the  stumbling-block  with 
us  artists.  We  rebel  by  instinct  against  anything  that 
threatens  to  encroach  upon  our  cherished  ego ;  and  excuse 
ourselves  on  the  plea  that  it  would  undermine  our  art. 
But  that  is  not  true; — oh,  believe  me  it's  not." 

Michael's  shoulders  went  up  again,  and  he  smiled  in- 
dulgently. But  behind  the  smile  lurked  a  shadow  of 
gravity  unusual  in  him.  He  had  been  aware  of  hidden 
changes  in  her,  but  this  was  his  first  glimpse  into  the 
depths. 

"Possibly  not,  che'rie  —  for  a  woman,"  he  admitted 
grudgingly.  "  But  for  a  man " 

"  Yes,  even  for  a  man,  dear  ignoramus ! "  she  broke  in 
eagerly,  setting  her  two  hands  upon  his  knees.  "  Love 
may  fill  more  of  a  woman's  horizon ;  but  it  goes  deeper 


THE    VALLEY   OF    DECISION.  393 

with  men,  —  of  the  right  sort,  even  if  they  are  artists ! 
Look  at  Browning.     He  knew.     A  big  brain  may  set  you 
on  a  pinnacle,  Michel ;  but  a  big  love  keeps  you  human,  * 
sets  your  pulses  beating  in   tune  with   all   the  hidden 
harmonies  of  the  world." 

A  hot  wave  of  shyness  checked  her.  She  withdrew  her 
hands  hastily,  and  sat  upright. . 

"  Tiens !  But  I  am  preaching !  A  new  vice,  n'est  ce 
pas  ?  " 

"  New  enough  to  be  interesting,  .  .  and  forgivable ! 
What's  your  text?" 

"  Need  you  ask  ?  The  first  remark  ever  made  upon  the 
subject :  '  It  is  not  good  that  the  man  should  be  alone/  " 

A  dull  flush  showed  under  Michael's  sallow  skin. 

"  C'est  &  dire,  il  faut  se  ranger  !  "  he  said  with  an  em- 
barrassed laugh.  "  Well  .  .  .  find  me  a  woman  who  under- 
stands and  inspires  me  like  yourself,  and  it  is  possible, 
— I  do  not  say  probable, — that  I  may  yet  fulfil  the  whole 
duty  of  man.  If  one  could  only  suggest  a  five  years' 
contract  .  .  !" 

"  Michel !  You  are  incorrigible ;  and  I  have  preached 
in  vain !  Besides,  it  is  not  a  wife  of  my  sort  you  need. 
I  thought  you  found  that  out  last  year;  and  ...  I 
think  so  still.  If  not,  why  have  you  stayed  on  here? 
And  why  did  you  make  that  exquisite  pastel  of  her 
portrait  ? " 

Michael's  eyes  seemed  to  demand  an  answer  from  the 
accusing  picture ;  and  there  was  an  instant  of  silence. 

"  I  stayed  on  here,"  he  said  at  length,  "  chiefly  because, 
lacking  you,  I  seem  to  lack  initiative ;  and  I  painted  that 
.  .  well,  as  a  memento  of  my  best  bit  of  work,  and  of  a 
dream,  more  delectable  than  most  .  .  .  while  it  lasted; 
but  none  the  less  .  .  a  dream." 

"  Yet  you  have  seen  a  good  deal  of  her  this  season,  one 
way  and  another." 

"  Yes.     In  spite  of  the  Button  Quail ! " 

"  And  it  would  hurt  you  if  she  were  to  marry  another 
man  ? " 

Michael  frowned.  "  There  is  no  other  man,  since 
Malcolm  went  home." 

"  Is  there  any  man  at  all,  I  wonder  ? " 


394  THE    GREAT    AMULET. 

Michael  rose  abruptly,  and  going  over  to  Elsie's  portrait 
stood  before  it,  his  hands  clasped  behind  him. 

"  I  have  wondered  also,"  he  said  on  a  rare  note  of 
gravity.  "But  you  women  are  enigmas;  even  the  simplest 
of  you." 

"  Ask  her,  Michel ;  ask  her.  Wondering  is  waste  of 
time :  and  time  is  life.  People  so  often  forget  that." 

Maurice  did  not  answer.  But  Quita  was  well  content : 
for  she  saw  how  Elsie's  violet-blue  eyes  were  holding  him, 
drawing  him  irresistibly  back  to  the  old  allegiance.  Y 
had  she  known  it,  Elsie's  eyes  had  less  to  do  with  the 
matter  than  her  own  stimulating  personality.  The  subtle 
development  in  her  had  not  been  without  its  effect  on 
him.  He  saw  her  transfigured  by  the  exquisite,  self- 
effacing  passion  of  the  woman  :  and  found  himself  envying 
the  man;  though  the  eloquence  of  her  appeal  had,  as 
usual,  fired  his  imagination  rather  than  his  heart. 

Suddenly  he  swung  round  upon  her,  his  face  alight. 

"  Parblffu,  Quita,  but  you  are  right !  You  always  are. 
And  as  there's  no  time  like  now,  I'll  ask  her  to-day  .  . 
I  have  scarcely  seen  her  this  last  fortnight.  But  that 
shall  be  atoned  for  .  .  later.  Give  me  your  blessing,  ma 
Mb/" 

Half-seriously,  half  in  joke,  he  knelt  beside  her  chair. 
But  the  entrance  of  the  kitmutgar  with  a  note  brought 
him  swiftly  to  his  feet. 

"  Talk  of  an  angel !  It  is  herself,"  he  exclaimed  as  he 
broke  the  seaL  "  My  demure  little  Puritan  meets  me 
half-way  after  all ! " 

He  scanned  the  first  page  at  a  glance,  then,  with  a 
sound  between  a  laugh  and  a  curse,  crumpled  up  the 
paper  in  his  hand. 

"  Mon  Dieu  .  .  a  pretty  bit  of  comedy ! " 

"  "What  is  it  now,  mem  cher  ? "  Quita  asked  anxiously, 
guessing  his  answer. 

"  It  is  Malcolm ;  no  less.  He  reaps  the  reward  of  con- 
stancy ;  like  the  good  boy  in  a  Sunday-school  book !  And 
she  .  .  eh  lien,  she  is  quite  certain  I  shall  be  delighted  to 
hear  of  her  great  good  fortune.  Very  charming !  Very 
correct ! " 

"  And  you,  Michel  .  .  you  ?  " 


THE   VALLEY   OF   DECISION.  395 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  tossed  the  note  into  the 
fender. 

"  Comme  fa !  It  seems  I  am  a  negligible  quantity. 
Possibly  have  been  all  along.  The  notion  does  not  com- 
fort a  man's  natural  vanity.  But  on  the  whole  .  ."  he 
paused;  smiling  at  the  concern  in  Quita's  eyes,  "on 
the  whole,  petite  soeur  ...  I  am  profoundly  relieved !  I 
should  have  proposed  .  .  yes ;  and  enjoyed  a  few  weeks 
of  Elysium.  But  it  is  certain  I  should  never  have  de- 
livered myself  permanently  into  the  hands  of  a  woman ! 
After  that,  it  is  useless  to  ask  for  your  blessing,  a'erf 
ee  past" 

"  Quite  useless  3 " 

But  the  hands  stretched  out  to  him  belied  her  words ; 
and  as  he  knelt  beside  her  once  more,  she  set  them  upon 
his  shoulders  and  kissed  his  forehead. 

"  This  time  I  give  you  up  for  good,  Michel ! "  she  said, 
smiling.  At  least  I  have  done  my  level  best  for  you ;  so 
my  conscience  is  clear.  But  it  is  written  that '  no  man 
may  redeem  his  brother ' ;  and  I  might  have  known  that 
Providence  was  not  likely  to  make  an  exception  in  favour 
of  a  woman ! " 

"Is  it  perhaps  a  step  towards  redemption  if,  on  your 
account,  I  give  up  playing  with  the  feu  sctcrf  of  the  heart, 
and  confine  myself  to  the  only  form  of  it  that  the  gods 
appear  to  have  granted  me?" 

"Dieu  vous  garde"  she  whispered,  and  kissed  him 
again. 


CHAPTER   XXXVL 

"  I  have  my  lesson  ;  understand 
The  worth  of  flesh  and  blood  at  last" 

— BSCOWXTXG. 

"On,  Theo— it  is  too  cruel    Too  terrible!    What   on 
earth  is  one  to  tell  her?" 

"Anything  but  the  truth,"  Desmond    answered   de- 
cisively, his  gaze  reverting  to  the  telegram  in  his  hand. 


396  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

It  was  from  the  Eesident  of  Kashmir ;  bald  and  brief,  yet 
full  of  grim  possibilities. 

"  Captain  Lenox  dangerously  ill  at  Darkot.  Eheu- 
matic  fever.  Doctor  sent  out.  Will  wire  further  news. 
Writing." 

Desmond  read  and  re-read  the  words  mechanically,  an 
anxious  frown  between  his  brows.  Then,  looking  up 
again,  he  encountered  his  wife's  eyes,  heavy  with  tears ; 
and  his  arm  enfolded  her  on  the  instant. 

"  Bear  up,  my  darling,  like  the  plucky  woman  you  are," 
he  commanded  gently,  his  lips  against  her  cheek.  "  It's 
not  the  worst.  By  God's  mercy  we  may  get  him  back 
yet.  You  must  keep  on  upholding  her  a  little  longer; 
that's  all.  I  know  it  has  been  a  strain  for  you, — this 
last  fortnight;  so  soon  after  your  own  affair  too." 

For  they  themselves  had  been  enriched  by  a  new  life, 
a  new  link  in  the  chain  that  bound  them — a  bright-haired 
daughter  not  yet  four  months  old. 

Honor  did  not  answer  at  once ;  but  leaned  upon  him, 
choking  back  her  sobs,  soothed  by  the  magnetism  of  his 
hand  and  voice,  that  seemed  always  to  leave  things  better 
than  they  found  them. 

When  her  tears  were  under  control,  she  drew  herself 
up,  brushing  them  from  her  cheeks  and  lashes. 

"  Yes,  it  has  been  a  strain,"  she  admitted.  "  And  I  did 
so  hope  this  had  brought  news  I  could  give  her,  at  last. 
You  don't  see  her  as  I  do,  Theo,  lying  there  day  after  day, 
so  frail  and  white  and  patient.  Quita  patient !  Can  you 
picture  it  ?  I  quite  long  for  a  flash  of  her  old  perversity. 
She  has  almost  left  off  speaking  of  him.  But  the  eternal 
question  in  her  eyes  haunts  me ;  and  I  feel  half  ashamed 
of  my  golden  time  with  you,  when  I  see  her  going  through 
it  alone,  poor  darling ;  her  natural  joy  in  the  child  shad- 
owed and  broken  by  the  anxiety  and  longing  that  are 
eating  her  heart  out,  and  holding  her  back  from  health. 
Is  there  nothing  I  can  tell  her,  that  would  be  truth,  yet 
not  all  the  truth  ? " 

Desmond  knitted  his  brows  again,  pondering. 

"  Go  to  her  now,"  he  said.     "  Tell  her  we've  heard  by 


THE   VALLEY    OF    DECISION.  397 

wire  that  he  is  safely  over  the  Darkot,  but  he  may  be 
delayed  in  getting  on  to  Kashmir,  and  we  hope  for  more 
news  within  the  week.  If  she  asks  to  see  the  wire,  say 
you're  sorry,  but  I  tore  it  up." 

He  did  so  on  the  spot,  dropping  the  shreds  of  paper 
reflectively  among  the  smouldering  logs  upon  the  hearth ; 
while  Honor  hurried  to  the  sick-room,  with  her  fragment 
of  news:  the  room  in  which  Lenox  had  almost  died  of 
cholera,  and  in  which  Quita's  ring  had  been  restored  to 
her  finger  sixteen  months  before. 

She  lay  in  it  now,  propped  up  among  frilled  pillows,  an 
etherealised  edition  of  herself ;  her  hair  divided  into  two 
plaits,  one  lying  over  each  shoulder ;  the  sweeping  curve 
of  her  lashes  shadowing  her  cheek ;  her  eyes  resting  on 
a  small  dark  head  that  nestled  in  the  hollow  of  her  arm. 
For,  to  Quita's  intense  satisfaction,  the  child  had  Eldred's 
black  hair,  and  the  clear  Northern  eyes  that  held  all  she 
knew,  or  as  yet  cared  to  know,  of  heaven. 

Her  delight  at  the  inadequate  tidings  of  her  husband 
was  greater  than  Honor  had  dared  to  expect.  For  she 
could  not  know  how  the  wakeful  night  watches,  and  the 
hours  of  enforced  quiet,  had  been  haunted  by  that  night- 
mare dread  of  the  mountains,  which  Eldred's  expurgated 
accounts  of  certain  vicissitudes  had  justified  rather  than 
dispelled.  But  now — now  he  was  through  the  worst  of 
them,  within  easy  distance  of  Kashmir ;  and  she  felt  as  a 
prisoner  may  feel  when  the  doors  swing  wide,  and  he  finds 
himself  once  more  lord  of  light  and  space. 

"  Oh,  Baby,  think  of  it ! "  she  whispered  in  ecstasy  to 
the  unheeding  morsel  of  life  in  her  arms.  "  He  is  coming 
— actually  coming !  Nothing  can  delay  him  very  long 
now." 

But  the  slow  days  multiplied  into  weeks ;  and  still  he 
did  not  come;  and  the  scanty  news  from  Kashmir  was 
not  hopeful  enough  to  be  passed  on  to  her — yet.  Then, 
as  she  grew  stronger,  and  more  openly  bewildered  at  the 
silence  and  delay,  Desmond  decided  to  speak  to  her  him- 
self. And  while  the  tale  was  still  upon  his  lips,  while 
Quita  sat  listening  to  it,  white  and  tearless,  his  hand 
grasping  her  own,  a  merciful  fate  brought  her  an  envelope 
quaveringly  addressed  in  pencil,  containing  word  of 


398  THE   GREAT   AMULET. 

definite  progress  at  last,  and  an  assurance  that  once  he 
could  set  foot  to  ground  nothing  should  hold  him  back. 

Ten  days  later  the  message,  "  Starting  this  morning," 
flashed  through  space  to  Dera  Ishmael  from  Kashmir ; 
and  after  that  each  hour  brought  him  nearer.  A  second 
flash  from  Lahore;  a  third  from  Jhung;  and  Desmond, 
sending  on  a  spare  horse,  rode  down  to  the  Indus  to  meet 
his  friend,  in  Oriental  fashion,  '  at  the  edge  of  the  carpet.' 

It  was  a  gaunt,  weather-beaten  figure  of  a  man  that 
stepped  out  of  the  ferry-boat  and  grasped  his  hand ;  but 
there  was  that  in  his  bearing  and  in  his  unshadowed  eyes 
that  told  Desmond  the  chief  of  what  he  wished  to  know. 
For  the  rest,  the  greeting  between  them  was  of  their  race 
and  kind. 

"  Well,  old  chap,  how  are  you  ? " 

"  Deuced  glad  to  see  you  back  again." 

"  And— Quita  ? " 

"  Deuced  glad  also,  I  suspect." 

"  Uncommonly  kind  of  you  both  keeping  her  all  this 
while." 

"  Kind  ?  It's  been  a  privilege  seeing  so  much  of  her. 
We  shall  grudge  giving  her  up." 

And  Desmond  bestowed  a  reflective  glance  on  the  man 
who  guessed  nothing  of  the  revelation  in  store  for  him. 

Their  talk  riding  back  to  the  station  was  fitful  and 
fragmentary.  All  that  remained  to  be  said — and  there 
was  a  good  deal  of  it — would  come  out  bit  by  bit,  at  odd 
moments,  mainly  under  the  influence  of  tobacco.  In  the 
meantime,  their  mutual  satisfaction  went  deeper  than 
speech;  and  it  was  enough. 

At  the  drawing-room  door  they  parted. 

"You'll  find  all  you  need  in  there,  I  think,"  Desmond 
said,  on  a  note  of  profound  understanding;  and  Lenox, 
putting  a  strong  hand  upon  himself,  pushed  aside  the 
heavy  curtain  and  stood,  at  last,  before  his  wife. 

With  a  low  cry,  and  arms  outflung,  she  came  to  him : 
and  that  first  rapture  of  reunion,  of  the  heart's  passionate 
upheaval  and  revealing — the  more  intense  for  the  mute- 
ness of  it — was  a  rapture  sacred  to  themselves  alone ;  not 
to  be  pried  upon  or  set  down.  Such  moments — come  they 
but  once  in  a  lifetime,  to  one  among  a  hundred — are 


THE   VALLEY    OF    DECISION.  399 

God's  reiterate  answers  to  the  problem  of  creation.  The 
man  or  woman  who  has  passed  that  way  will  never  ask 
the  soul's  most  withering  question :  To  what  end  was  I 
born  ?  '  The  rest  may  reason  and  welcome.'  They  are 
of  the  few  who  know. 

Lenox  and  Quita  swept  headlong,  as  it  were,  to  the 
crest  of  a  wave,  dropped  presently  back  to  earth.  Then 
he  set  her  a  little  away  from  him,  almost  at  arm's-length, 
the  better  to  feast  his  eyes  upon  the  sight  of  her;  and 
so  became  aware  of  the  subtle  change  perceptible  in  her 
letters : — some  exquisite  quality,  the  fruit  of  long  waiting, 
crowned  by  the  miracle  of  motherhood;  an  appreciable 
softening  of  the  lips ;  a  triumph  of  the  essential  woman 
over  mere  line  and  curve  that  brought  her  near  to  actual 
beauty.  But  it  was  the  new  depth  and  tenderness  in  her 
eyes  that  drew  and  held  him;  eyes  luminous,  as  never 
before,  with  the  pride,  the  exaltation,  of  a  consummate 
self -surrender, — not  of  necessity,  but  of  free  choice; 
the  woman's  utmost  gift  to  her  own  one  lover  and  com- 
peer in  all  the  world ;  if  so  be  that  she  is  privileged  to 
find  him,  and  if  so  be  that  he  himself  aspires  to  the  larger 
claim.  Eldred  Lenox  had  so  aspired;  and,  in  consequence, 
had  attained.  Her  mute  confession  of  it  stirred  him  to 
speech. 

"  I  believe  I  have  won  the  whole  of  you  at  last — you 
very  woman,"  he  said  almost  under  his  breath. 

"  And  I  know  it,"  she  answered  in  the  same  tone.  "  Do 
you  remember  saying  that  day  you  were  angry :  '  If  you 

will  make  it  a  case  of  mastery ! '  Well,  it  is  a  case 

of  mastery — absolute  and  permanent." 

She  spoke  truth.  At  that  moment,  and  indeed  for 
many  years  after,  she  would  have  walked,  at  his  bidding, 
into  the  heart  of  a  furnace.  He  drew  her  close  again. 

"  No,  no,  lass.  I  hope  it's  a  case  of  love  and  comrade- 
ship on  an  equal  footing, — as  you  have  seen  it  in  this 
house ;  the  rarest  thing  in  the  world  between  a  man  and 
woman." 

Her  smile  brought  into  play  the  dimple  that  he  loved. 

"  How  one  needs  you  at  every  turn,  to  keep  the  balance 
of  things  !  But  come  over  to  my  easel.  I  have  something 
to  show  you." 


400  THE    GREAT    AMULET. 

Very  deliberately  she  lifted  the  draperies  that  hid  the 
picture,  and  a  low  sound  broke  from  him.  Then  he  stood 
gazing  upon  it, —  absorbed,  captivated;  and  whereas,  a 
moment  since,  the  woman  had  triumphed,  now  all  the 
artist  in  her  thrilled  at  his  tribute  of  silence,  knowing 
it  for  the  highest  praise. 

"  A  bit  of  pure  inspiration,"  he  said  at  last.  "  It  lives 
and  breathes ! " 

"  That  is  your  doing,  more  than  mine.  And  I  am  glad 
it  pleases  you  ;  for  it  is  a  present,  and — a  confession ! " 

"You  did  it  simply  for  me?" 

"For  who  else,  in  earth  or  heaven,  dear  and  dense 
one  ? "  she  demanded,  laughing ;  and  was  effectually  put 
to  silence.  "Wasn't  it  just  like  me  to  throw  all  my 
heart  into  a  portrait  of  myself?"  she  added,  as  he  re- 
leased her. 

It  was  enchanting  of  you ;  that's  all  I  know.  But  see 
here,  lass,  there  must  be  no  question  of  murdering  half 
your  personality  on  my  account.  I  am  grasping.  I  want 
both  of  you, — artist  and  woman." 

"Dear  heart,  you've  taken  arbitrary  possession  of  as 
many  of  me  as  there  are!  And  indeed,  I'd  be  puzzled 
to  swear  to  the  exact  number.  I  seem  to  have  let  you  in 
for  three  sorts  of  wives  already  !  But  seriously,  Eldred,  I 
have  come  to  one  conclusion  in  the  long  months  I  have 
had  for  thinking  things  over.  I  believe  you  were  right 
in  saying  it  might  be  best  for  me  to  give  up  painting 
men's  portraits.  Not  altogether:  I  don't  think  I  could, 
unless  you  insisted  !  But  I  won't  make  it  a  speciality,  as 
I  have  done ;  and  I'll  be  more  circumspect  in  my  methods, 
and  in  my  choice  of  subjects.  Will  that  do  ? " 

He  looked  full  at  her  for  a  moment;  his  keen  eyes 
melting  into  wells  of  tenderness. 

"  My  darling — what's  come  to  you  ? "  was  all  he  said. 

"A  spirit  of  understanding,  I  hope,"  she  answered 
sweetly.  "But  you'll  find  plenty  of  the  old  unreason- 
able Quita  effervescing  underneath  !  Par  exemple — on 
the  heels  of  my  great  renunciation,  the  first  thing  I  want 
to  do  is  a  portrait  of  Major  Desmond  for  my  dear  Honor, 
—if  I  may  ? " 

"If  you  may!    What  next?"     But  being  a  man  and 


THE    VALLEY    OF    DECISION.  401 

human,  he  was  obviously  gratified.  "You  could  suggest 
nothing  that  would  please  me  better.  You'll  make  a 
fine  thing  of  it;  and  as  for  your  methods,  'get  inside' 
Desmond  for  all  you're  worth.  You'll  do  no  harm  in 
that  quarter!" 

"Harm?"  she  flashed  out,  half  indignant.  "Has  it 
ever,  in  all  of  your  knowledge  of  me,  gone  as  far  as 
that?" 

He  could  not  lie  to  her;  neither  would  he  betray 
Dick. 

"  Did  such  a  possibility  never  occur  to  you  ? "  he  sug- 
gested, evading  direct  reply. 

But  she  was  not  to  be  thwarted. 

"  I  asked  you  a  question,  mon  cher" 

"  And  that  is  my  answer." 

"A  question  is  not  an  answer."  Then  intuition,  and 
his  evident  discomfiture,  enlightened  her.  "Mon  JDieu, 
Eldred  !  You  are  never  thinking — of  Dick  ? " 

He  frowned.     "  What  put  that  into  your  head  ? " 

"  Your  manner ;  and  something  he  wrote  to  me  while 
he  was  away.  You  heard,  of  course  ?  He  said  he  had 
told  you  the  good  news." 

"  What  good  news  ?     When  ?  " 

"  Weeks  ago.     Before  he  came  back  off  leave." 

"  I  had  no  letter.  Must  have  been  mislaid  while  I  was 
ill.  What's  up  ?  Has  he  got  a  command  ? " 

"Yes.  And  better  than  that.  He  is  going  to  be 
married." 

"By  Jove!  That's  first-rate.  Good  old  Dick!  But 
what  was  it  he  said  to  you?" 

"  I'll  show  you  the  letter.  Such  a  charming  one.  He 
began,  '  Dear  Friend,'  which  wasn't  like  him.  It  puzzled 
me.  And  he  ended  by  saying  he  felt  sure  I  should  be 
glad  to  know  how  much  of  his  present  happiness  he  owed 
to  his  intimacy  with  me.  So  you  see,  dearest,  I  did  no 
irretrievable  harm." 

"  No,  mercifully  not,  thanks  to  Dick's  uprightness,  and 
his  happy  temperament.  But  he  might  have  been  quite 
another  sort ;  like  myself,  for  instance.  By  the  time  I 
had  known  you  two  weeks,  Quita,  the  damage  was  perma- 
nent. Even  if  there  had  been  no  word  of  love  between 

2  c 


402  THE   GREAT    AMULET. 

us,  I  should  never  have  given  a  thought  to  another  woman 
— after  that." 

The  quietness  of  his  tone  carried  conviction,  and  her 
arms  went  out  to  him. 

"  Bless  you,  bless  you,  my  own  man,"  she  murmured 
into  the  lapel  of  his  coat.  "  I  can  never  thank  God  enough 
that  I  came  out  to  India  and  won  you  back." 

Weak  as  he  still  was  from  the  pain  and  prostration  of 
his  terrible  illness,  the  exquisite  completeness  of  her 
surrender  almost  unmanned  him ;  and  she  felt  him 
tremble  through  all  his  big  frame.  That  roused  the 
mother  in  her. 

"  Darling,  how  thoughtless  of  me  !  You  are  not  strong 
enough  yet  for  this  sort  of  thing.  Let  me  get  you  some 
wine — please." 

"  Wine  ?  Nonsense,  I'm  all  right.  Desmond  gave  me 
a  peg." 

"  Come  to  a  chair,  then." 

She  drew  him  towards  one;  but  he  gently  forced  her 
into  it,  sinking  on  one  knee  beside  her,  with  a  sigh  of 
satisfaction. 

"That's  good.  I  begin  to  realise  that  I  am  actually 
home ! " 

"  And  I  begin  to  realise  what  a  wreck  of  yourself  you 
are,  mon  pauvre.  Wait  till  I've  tyrannised  over  you  for  a 
month  or  so !  Then  we  must  get  long  leave." 

And  taking  his  head  between  her  hands,  she  cherished 
it,  smiling  into  his  eyes ;  the  passion  of  the  wife  deepened 
and  hallowed  by  the  protective  tenderness  of  the  mother. 
When  and  how  should  she  tell  him?  That  was  the 
question  in  her  mind.  A  paralysing  shyness,  for  which 
she  spurned  herself,  suffused  her  at  the  thought ;  and 
behind  the  shyness  lurked  a  great  longing  to  know  how 
he  would  receive  her  culminating  revelation.  But  in  his 
present  state  she  dreaded  a  shock  for  him, — even  a  shock 
of  joy.  She  would  wait  a  little  longer  for  the  given 
moment;  and  then  .... 

"  The  hair  on  your  temples  has  gone  quite  silver,"  she 
lamented,  caressing  it  with  light  finger-tips.  "It  is  all 
those  terrible  mountains  ;  and  I  hope  you've  had  enough 
of  them  now  to  keep  you  quiet  for  a  time.  But  I  begin 


THE    VALLEY    OF    DECISION.  403 

to  dread  Sir  Henry  Forsyth.  He  hasn't  got  another 
'  mission '  up  his  sleeve,  has  he  ? " 

She  spoke  laughingly,  but  his  eyes  were  grave ;  and 
taking  her  two  hands  he  prisoned  them  in  his  own. 

"Quita,  my  brave  lass,"  he  said  gently.  "After  all 
that  has  just  passed  between  us,  I  can  tell  you  no  less 
than  the  truth,  and  leave  you  to  give  the  casting  vote.  I 
am  afraid  the  mountains  are  bound  to  play  a  big  part  in 
our  immediate  future,  unless  you  seriously  prefer  that  I 
should  give  up  all  idea  of  political  work  in  those  parts, 
and  stick  to  the  Battery."  ' 

"  And  if  I  do  seriously  prefer  it  ? " 

"  Your  decision  will  be  mine." 

He  spoke  so  steadily  that  she  would  fain  have  believed 
in  his  indifference  as  to  the  result.  But  the  art  of  self- 
deception  was  not  one  of  her  accomplishments.  She 
suppressed  a  sigh. 

"  Dear,  there  is  only  one  decision  possible.  But  for  me 
you  might  never  have  put  your  hand  to  that  plough.  It 
was  the  one  good  that  came  to  you  through  my  crowning 
act  of  folly  ;  and  I'll  not  undo  it,  whatever  it  may  mean 
— for  me." 

He  thanked  her  with  his  eyes ;  and  the  mute  homage 
in  them  was  dearer  to  her  than  a  score  of  kisses.  When 
he  tried  to  speak,  she  forestalled  him. 

"You  have  said  it  all,  Eldred.  I  understand.  I  only 
want — more  facts.  Is  it  Gilgit  ?  And  when  ? " 

"  Next  year,  I'm  afraid.  They  want  us  to  re-establish 
the  Agency — Travers  and  myself.  I  was  up  there,  you 
see,  before  I  found  you  again.  We  should  be  quite 
alone,  at  the  start,  with  just  a  doctor  and  our  Kashmiri 
soldiers." 

"  And  I — it  would  be  impossible  ? " 

He  pressed  her  hands. 

"  For  the  first  few  years — certainly.  Everything  would 
be  raw ;  and  the  work  incessant  and  absorbing.  But 
later  on,  who  can  tell  ?  We  might  see  what  could  be 
done." 

"  And  the  nearest  I  could  get  to  you,  so  as  to  live  more 
or  less  within  reach  ? " 

"Srinagar.      That's   about  twenty  days'   march   from 


404  THE    GREAT    AMULET. 

Gilgit.  I  could  do  it  in  ten,  to  get  to  you ! "  he  added, 
smiling.  "Spare  time  would  be  scarce,  though;  and  in 
the  winter  we  should  be  quite  cut  off  by  snow." 

"Oh,  Eldred!" 

"  I  should  hate  that  no  less  than  you,  be  sure.  But 
when  things  got  a  bit  more  settled,  some  sort  of  arrange- 
ment might  be  possible,  at  least  for  part  of  the  summer  ; 
if  you  could  really  stand  the  isolation  and  the  life." 

"  Stand  it  ?     Of  course  I  could.     I  should  love  it." 

His  eyes  lit  up. 

"  You  have  pluck  enough  for  half  a  dozen  !  But  you 
don't  look  as  strong  as  you  did.  There's  a  fragile  air 
about  you  that  troubles  me.  I  never  saw  it  before." 

The  faint  colour  in  her  cheeks  invaded  her  temples.  It 
was  the  given  moment ;  long  enough  delayed  in  all  con- 
science. Yet  it  found  her  palpitating — unprepared. 

"  You  mustn't  be  troubled."  She  plunged  desperately  ; 
unsure  of  what  would  come  next.  "  It  will  pass.  I  am 
growing  stronger  every  day." 

"  Stronger  ?  Good  Lord !  You  haven't  been  ill  too, 
and  I  never  knew  it  ? " 

"  No — oh,  no !  Not  ill — that  is  ...  not  exactly.  I 
mean  ..." 

Confusion  submerged  her.  His  shoulder — the  woman's 
legitimate  lefuge — was  conveniently  close ;  and  she  buried 
her  blushes  in  it.  At  that  a  suspicion  of  the  truth  thrilled 
through  him,  like  an  electric  current. 

"  Quita — look  up — speak  to  me ! "  he  besought  her ;  his 
voice  low,  and  not  quite  steady.  "  Is  it  possible  .  .  .  ? " 

"  Darling,  of  course  it  is,"  she  whispered  back,  without 
stirring.  "  Only — will  you  ever  forgive  me  ?  I've 
saddled  you  with  two  women  now,  as  if  one  wasn't  bother 
enough  ! " 

For  answer  he  strained  her  closer ;  and  so  knelt  for  the 
space  of  many  seconds;  stunned,  momentarily,  by  that 
deep-rooted,  elemental  joy  in  the  transmission  of  life, 
which,  in  men  of  fine  fibre,  is  tempered  with  amazement 
and  awe  ;  a  sense  of  poignant,  personal  contact  with  the 
Open  Secret  of  the  world. 

At  last  he  spoke  ;  and  his  words  held  no  suggestion  of 
the  emotion  that  uplifted  him. 


THE   VALLEY    OP    DECISION.  405 

"  When  ?     How  old  ...  how  long  ago  ? " 

"  Seven  weeks  ago.     The  second  of  October." 

"  Great  Heaven  !  The  day  I  was  nearly  done  for ;  the 
day  I  crossed  the  Pass.  And  I  never  dreamed  .  .  .  how 
it  was  with  you." 

Then,  very  gently,  she  found  her  head  lifted  from  its 
resting-place  ;  his  eyes  searching  her  own  with  an  insist- 
ence not  to  be  denied. 

"  Quita,  you  must  have  realised — all  this  before  I 
started?" 

"Yes." 

"  And  you  let  me  go  without  a  word  !  By  the  Lord,  I 
think  I  had  the  right  to  know." 

Her  lips  trembled  a  little  at  the  reproach  in  his  tone ; 
but  she  did  not  avert  her  eyes. 

"  Of  course  you  had  the  right,"  she  acknowledged  with 
a  flash  of  her  old  frankness.  "  But  things  were  going 
crooked  just  then.  It  all  seemed  so  strange,  so  difficult  to 
speak  of;  and  I  thought  if  you  were  delayed  it  would 
save  you  from  anxiety,  not  to  know.  Besides — I  confess 
I  knew  it  would  mean  ...  a  great  deal  to  you ;  and  I 
wanted  to  win  you  all  my  own  self,  before  I  told  you. 
There  !  That's  the  whole  truth.  Can  you  forgive  me  ? " 

"  Forgive  you,  my  darling  ?  To-day  of  all  days  !  I  am 
at  your  feet." 

She  drew  a  deep  breath.  "  That  is  quite  wrong !  But 
I  can't  pretend  not  to  be  proud  of  it ;  though  in  theory  I 

object  to  pedestals  as  much  as  ever  !     And  now "  she 

laid  both  hands  upon  him,  her  eyes  full  of  laughter  and 
tenderness.  "  Now — don't  you  want  to  come  and  see — 
the  other  woman?" 

At  that,  his  gravity  went  to  pieces. 

"  Woman  indeed  !  Bless  her  heart.  Naturally  I  do. 
Hasn't  she  achieved  a  name  yet  ? " 

"  No,  poor  little  heathen.  I  told  her  she  must  wait  for 
you  ;  though  the  matter  was  settled  long  ago.  What  else 
could  we  call  her — but  Honor  ?  And  I  pray  she  may  be 
worthy  of  the  name.  Both  the  Desmonds  will  stand  for 
her.  I  thought  you  would  wish  it ;  for,  indeed,  without 
their  great  goodness  to  us  both  she  might  never  have 
found  her  way  into  the  world  at  all !  Now — come." 


406  THE    GREAT    AMULET. 

He  raised  her  to  her  feet,  and  together  they  entered 
the  room  where,  in  a  railed  cot,  the  unconscious  herald  of 
a  larger  joy,  a  more  sacred  intimacy,  lay  sleeping : — a 
creature  of  flower-soft  tints  and  curves,  who,  in  the  sub- 
lime wisdom  of  babyhood,  was  concerned  for  nothing  on 
earth  but  her  own  inspired  devices  for  self-development. 

For  long  the  two  stood  speechless  before  that  astonish- 
ing, yet  inevitable,  third ;  that  miracle  of  incorporate 
self-expression,  whereby  a  man  and  woman  behold  their 
hidden  spirits  that  have  so  passionately  clung  together 
across  the  gateless  barrier  of  individual  being,  'visibly 
here  commingled  and  made  flesh.'  Then  Lenox  put  out 
a  hand  and  caressed  the  small  soft  head,  reverently, 
cautiously,  as  if  to  verify  its  actuality.  At  his  touch  the 
child  stirred  ;  the  dark  lashes  lifted  ;  and  in  that  instant 
of  revealing,  the  truth  came  home  to  him  that,  by  his 
will,  a  living  soul,  a  thing  of  mysterious  and  infinite 
potentialities,  had  been  added  to  the  world's  sum  of  life. 

"  See — she  has  your  eyes,"  said  Quita,  tenderly  trium- 
phant ;  and  for  the  second  time  she  looked  into  his  own 
through  a  mist  of  tears.  "  My  last  picture  pleases  you 
even  better  than  the  other  one  ? "  she  added ;  and  stoop- 
ing, he  kissed  her  lips. 

"  It  lifts  you  into  a  new  kingdom,  Quita  ;  and  doesn't 
she  honestly  seem  to  you  worth  all  the  rest  put  to- 
gether ? " 

"  But  yes,  mon  ami.  She  is  my  masterpiece — our 
masterpiece,"  she  answered  very  low. 


THE    END. 


PRINTED   BY    WILLIAM   BLACKWOOD   AND   SONS. 


University  of  California 

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405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


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